


Love Me Past The Fireworks

by StarkerThanReality



Series: A Kitty Story Collection [2]
Category: Marvel, Marvel (Comics), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Abusive Relationships, Accidental Voyeurism, Alcohol, Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Bad BDSM Etiquette, Bastardized Bruce, Beat With A Belt, Brief Verbal Humiliation, Bruce Banner Has Issues, Bruises, Cheating, Coffee trope, Continued Story, Control Issues, Dangerous Situations, Date Rape, Denial, Depression, Derogatory Language, Dissociation, Domestic Discipline, Domestic Violence, Drinking, Dubious Consent, Emotional Manipulation, Emotional/Psychological Abuse, Extremely Dubious Consent, Face Slapping, Friends With Benefits, Gaslighting, Hickies, Homophobic Language, Hospitals, Humiliation, Love Bites, M/M, Medical Examination, Medical Procedures, Non-Consensual Spanking, Not a Stucky story, OOC, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Part 2, Physical Abuse, Physical Punishment, Praise Kink, Probably Going to be Dark Because I Can't Not, Psychological Manipulation, Public Humiliation, Rare Pair, Rare Pairings, Rimming, Self-Denial, Shopping with friends, Spanking, Subdrop, Threats, Threats of Violence, Unreliable Narrator, Usual Sexy Stuff, Verbal Humiliation, Vomiting, Welts, Yelling, belittling, hospital visits, spitting, spousal abuse
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-09-09
Updated: 2021-03-05
Packaged: 2021-03-06 19:34:55
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 10
Words: 76,692
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26384224
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/StarkerThanReality/pseuds/StarkerThanReality
Summary: A continuation of A Kitty Story, this takes place immediately afterward.Steve can't stop thinking about the boy; Peter. He tries to spend as much time as he can with him, but the kid is terrified, and his new partner isn't very positive regarding the situation.Between stress at work, worrying about Peter's future, and his new relationship, Steve is beginning to feel like things might be a little too much.
Relationships: Bruce Banner/Steve Rogers, James "Bucky" Barnes/Tony Stark, Loki/Steve Rogers
Series: A Kitty Story Collection [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1917445
Comments: 70
Kudos: 71





	1. New Favorite Feeling

**Author's Note:**

> How was that for an introduction? I suck at them

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "He's not some feral creature, he's a man, a young man!"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this took me so long to reveal! I'd been thinking about it for a while and I really wanted to continue A Kitty Story from a different perspective.

"I don't know what to do, I don't know how to help him," Steve lamented, pulling his shirt over his head and tossing it toward the wicker laundry basket in the corner of his bedroom. He began unbuckling his jeans and sliding them down next.

Bruce hummed from the end of the bed, watching Steve lazily. "I'm not sure, Blue. There might not be anything you can do for this one," he regretfully suggested to Steve. 

Steve sighed in exasperation, emptying the pockets of his jeans and then tossing them in the hamper as well. 

"I can't accept that, Bruce! Look at how well James is doing now! What if we'd just given up on _him?_ What if we'd just let him go back to Clint? He could be dead right now! You want me to just leave his brother? _Alone?_ " He shook his head in exasperation and stood akimbo, looking at Bruce with his head cocked in only his crisp white briefs.

Bruce's lips quirked into a little grin, taking in the rigid, spotless blonde, but he knew he was right.

"Okay, I'm sorry. I didn't mean to offend you. I just mean, maybe you should take a step back and let someone else help before you stretch yourself thin, you know. Wear yourself out." Bruce sat on the bed in a soft pair of dark gray sleep shorts, his chest bare.

"Bruce," Steve groaned, dropping his hands from his slim hips and taking a few strides toward the other man. "I can't do that. Who do we ask? Tony? He's already got James! And then what, some stranger takes him and they never see each other again? Or worse, he becomes just another part of the system and never meets his full potential? I just can't let that happen!" He groaned as he climbed onto Bruce's lap, wrapping his arms around the brunette's shoulders. 

"Well, can we at least take some time to talk about this? It's a huge thing. You've already got your whole squad to take care of, the people you protect, taking time for James and Tony, too. Our relationship is still new, I...I don't know that I'm personally ready to adopt some feral savage child and try to incorporate him into our lives. I mean, between both of our jobs and responsibilities, we barely have time to see each other as it is."

Steve sighed in defeat and let his eyes wander away as he thought about what Bruce had said, knowing that he was right. His hand slid from Bruce's shoulder and down onto his chest, idly fiddling with the graying dark hairs there. 

"I suppose…but I really want to talk about this more. He deserves the same chance that James had, and I'd love for them to still be in each other's lives. James said they were brothers."

"Yeah, but that could mean anything. Clint could have just told them that, it isn't necessarily true," Bruce pointed out, looking up at Steve. 

"So? James thinks of him as a brother, that's all that matters to me. You should have seen how upset he was when he saw the picture," Steve stated sadly, getting lost in his thoughts again. 

It had been nearly a week since they'd found Peter in the dark damp cellar where he'd been hidden. Steve had been the one who'd found him. Or rather, _them._

He shuddered as he remembered the horrifying scene he'd stumbled onto. 

They'd gone back to investigate one last time after they'd finally gotten the house cleared. They needed to clear the shed to finish the job and they'd all expected it to be fast and simple. Steve had been the one to discover the false floor, hearing the hollow echoing footsteps beneath them as they walked.

They'd pulled up the dirty old rug that covered the floor and a worn wooden trap door had been revealed. It reminded Steve of all the old movies his father used to watch with him, complete with a rusted metal ring that served as a handle. Thor had needed to yank it open, as jammed as it had been. Dimly in the back of his mind, Steve realized that this must have been why Clint had been headed for the shed when he'd last encountered the man. It was his getaway route. 

"There has to be a tunnel under here or some kind of hidden cellar," he'd announced out loud, looking to Thor for confirmation.

"We'll have to check it out," Thor had replied in his deep, thundering voice.

They'd gathered their comrades and formed a line, two by two they went down the makeshift dirt stairs, seeing the light disappear with each step they took until they'd reached a wide, cold cavern in the rich earth beneath the shed.

They'd turned on a few flashlights so they wouldn't trip, keeping an eye out for any traps that Clint, in his twistedness may have set.

The beam of his flashlight had cut through the thick darkness and flashed past two dark, terrified eyes. Steve had exclaimed in fear and nearly dropped his flashlight, taking a step back directly into Thor's huge body. 

"Hey, don't move!" Thor's voice had thundered, echoing around the dirt walls as Steve got ahold of himself and brought his flashlight back up, along with his pistol. 

Their flashlight beams had landed on Peter's naked, emaciated form huddled in the corner, cowering in horror over another form. Steve knew then exactly what had happened. James had looked nearly as bad when Steve had first seen him. 

He'd quickly holstered his pistol and taken a small step forward toward the boy with his hand out as though he were coaxing a scared animal.

"Hey, pal, it's okay," he'd cooed softly, trying to call him over. "You're safe now, you're okay."

He'd taken a quick glance toward the other form he'd seen in the corner beneath the shaggy, frightened boy, but he could see just from the awkward way the person lay there, that they weren't alive any longer. The more he thought about how long the person could have been gone, the stronger the acrid rotting smell around him seemed, and he moved his hand to swipe at his nose subconsciously.

"Honey, c'mon. It's safe to come with us, Clint can't hurt you anymore," he'd reasoned with the scrawny boy. "Let's get you somewhere safe, you wanna eat?" He asked, taking a few slow steps toward him. He heard Thor taking steps to stay close behind him.

They'd been able to coax him from the corner with promises of food, slowly and softly. He'd scurried on his hands and knees, keeping a close eye on the men and women around him. Once they'd gotten him up to the shed, Steve had been able to wrap him tightly in a blanket, leading him into his squad car. They'd called in another team to deal with the corpse.

"Well," Bruce spoke up, pulling Steve from the memory. "He'll be happy to know that you've saved him. And who knows, maybe your relationship with James will help you all in the end. Maybe Jay can help you get through to this kid." He flattened his palms and ran them slowly down Steve's bare back, feeling the firm but relaxed muscles beneath his skin.

"For now, can we get some sleep? Tomorrow is my only day off for nine days straight, and I don't want to sleep it away," Bruce pleaded, big hands softly encompassing the most narrow part of Steve's waist.

The blonde groaned. He let his head fall back, smiling as he enjoyed the way Bruce's fingers tightened to keep him from toppling backward right off his lap. 

" _Brucie_ ," Steve whined, slowly straightening back up. "I can't sleep yet, I'm too wound up." He pushed his lower lip out just enough to look petulant but not enough to look bratty. "Can we please stay up for just a little longer? Please, just a little?" He begged sweetly, tilting his chin down to blink at Bruce with his eyes wide and pleading.

" _Ooohh, Blue_ ," Bruce groaned with a grin, looking up and down Steve's chest and stomach with renewed interest.

Steve tilted his chin down farther and his expression turned from sweet and pleading to positively wicked in an instant.

"Can you call me Steven?" He asked, voice lower and breathier. " _Sir,_ " he tacked on for good measure.

Bruce's grin turned just as dark as Steve's and he chuckled a bit before he tossed Steve to the side, onto the mattress, quickly pinning his arms above his head with a soft growl. 

Steve pretended to be more in control than he actually was in the bedroom, and Bruce thought it was oh, so delicious. He watched the blonde's entire body language shift, brazenness and whining replaced with demure eyes and an eagerness to please.

Steve was putty in Bruce's hands, and if he wanted to play before bed? Who was Bruce to say no?

Steve woke before he realized he had, finding himself aware of the fact that he lay staring unblinkingly at the wall from the edge of the bed where he lay precariously. Bruce's arm was draped low over his hips, breathing deeply behind him.

He didn't have any idea how long he'd been awake, he just knew that he couldn't stop thinking about the boy; Peter. He couldn't imagine what the poor boy must be going through, and he didn't want to know anything about what he'd been through, though he knew it would be best for Peter to talk about eventually. 

Just knowing a fraction of the horrors that James had been through was enough for Steve to guess what it must have been like for Peter.

Now, he was absolutely terrified, having to be strapped to the hospital bed in a place he didn't recognize with absolutely no familiar faces. He didn't seem to give any indication that he understood anything around him. He'd never uttered a word, whimpering and yipping much the way James did when Tony had first found him. Most of the time when the doctors and nurses needed to get close, he'd scream with the force and depth of a banshee. He needed to be sedated before being bathed for everyone's safety.

Steve sighed quietly before he slowly eased his way out from beneath Bruce's arm, standing and heading to his small wardrobe to get dressed. He stretched and groaned, hyper-aware of how sore he was from his exertions the night before. Eventually, he'd get used to Bruce's size. 

"Blue?" He heard Bruce murmur, half asleep. "Steven?"

"Hey, honey," he called back softly, turning over his shoulder with a smile. "I'm here. Good morning."

"Mornin'," Bruce grumbled sleepily. "Wha' ya doin up?" He asked, peering through the dim room with bleary eyes. 

"Couldn't sleep anymore. I was just getting dressed," Steve replied, watching Bruce settle back into a more comfortable position. 

"C'mere," Bruce coaxed, motioning Steve closer. "Come cuddle."

Steve chuckled and a warm smile graced his face as he acquiesced the brunette's request, crawling back under the sheets with the man. He snuggled in close and was rewarded with a soft kiss, followed by deeper, slower kisses. 

Bruce moaned softly as he invaded Steve's mouth with his tongue, pulling him as close as he could. Steve laughed, something close to a giggle, but he'd never been a man to giggle before. He wrapped his arms tightly around Bruce's waist, slotting his thigh between the man's legs. 

Bruce broke the kiss and began trailing tiny wet kisses down Steve's throat and chest, grinding slowly against his thigh as he began to grow hard. "God, you're so gorgeous," he whispered, marveling at every bit of Steve that he laid eyes on. Steve gasped and closed his eyes, threading his fingers into Bruce's soft curls and tugging carefully. 

Bruce growled low again and licked a broad stripe up Steve's throat, beginning from the hollow between his collar bones and ending just below his jaw. 

Steve gasped as Bruce suddenly opened his own jaw wide and wrapped his teeth around Steve's throat, biting down just enough to sting. He obediently lay still, nerves on edge, as Bruce rolled himself up on top of Steve and began to hump against his own erection.

He let out a squeak and spread his legs as much as he could, staying focused on Bruce's sharp teeth and the way they were pressing deeper into his flesh.

When Bruce finally released his bite, Steve sighed and reflexively reached up to touch his skin, pulling his fingers away to find no blood. He didn't have much time to focus on it, because Bruce began to fuck against Steve, pinning him down and slapping their clothed hips together. 

Steve felt a cold bead of sweat on his brow. He was still so sore from the night before. His body felt achy and his ass felt bruised, the hole swollen and heated. 

"Oh baby," Bruce moaned softly. "Can I have you one more time? One more time before we have to get out of bed? Let me make you come. I know I can make you come," he pressed, grinding their cocks together again. 

Steve let out a shaky breath and his cheeks were red and hot. There was no denying that Bruce felt good, or that he knew what he was doing. The orgasms Steve had had with Bruce had all been show-stopping, mind-blowing, vision-gone-white _amazing_ , but they'd never done it twice in such a short time. He'd always had time to heal afterward.

Maybe it would make his hole feel better to have Bruce's huge meat sword stuffed inside him, holding him in. Maybe Bruce would be upset with him if he said no. Maybe Bruce would take what he wanted regardless of what Steve answered.

"Blue? Where'd you go?" Bruce asked softly, studying the far away look in Steve's eyes.

Steve blinked and sucked in a breath, eyes going wide. "I-I'll do it!" He squeaked out quickly. "You can have me!" 

Bruce smiled and leaned forward to softly kiss Steve's lips, tenderly licking against them. "Well let's get these jeans off you then, baby." He reached between them and pulled open the button, sliding the zipper down fast. Steve could see how hard he was through his soft sleep shorts and felt his heartbeat race. 

He tried to calm his nerves, willing his muscles to relax as Bruce made quick work of removing his denim jeans, reverently smoothing his big hands over the crisp white fabric of his underwear. 

"God, you're so beautiful," Bruce repeated, glancing up at Steve before leaning down to begin mouthing at the blonde's erection through his underwear. "Such a pretty boy, and so good for Sir."

Steve felt his lips quirk into a smile despite his nervousness and he reminded himself that Bruce wouldn't actually hurt him on purpose. 

Bruce suddenly slid his fingertips into the waistband of Steve's underwear, peeling them back with excitement in his eyes. 

"I could get used to waking up like this," he grinned, before pursing his lips and sucking Steve's cockhead into his mouth with a moan. Steve gasped and his hips jerked, spreading his thighs wide. This wasn't too bad. He glanced down and watched as Bruce swallowed his length bit by bit, relishing in the tastes and sensations with practiced motions like an expert. 

When Bruce's nose met the skin at Steve's groin, he pressed farther, gagging himself on Steve's cock. He glanced up again with tear-filled eyes and captured Steve's attention as he gagged and choked, forcing himself to hold still, and Steve nearly came at just the sight of him. 

"Oh, Sir!" Steve cried out, placing both hands in Bruce's hair and holding him tightly. He felt Bruce sliding off and looked down to make sure the man was alright.

"Fuck-," Bruce gasped, coughing a bit. "Fuck my face baby," he commanded. He quickly sank back down, taking every inch of Steve down his throat within seconds, and Steve had no problem complying. 

He gripped Bruce's curls between his fingers and pulled, holding his head still as he let his hips snap up and down. 

"Oh God, thank you Sir, thank you!" Steve cried out as he fucked into that soft, hot, wet mouth with abandon. He loosed his grip after a moment, letting Bruce pull off for air, but he didn't expect the man to take back control just then. 

Bruce grabbed Steve's hips tightly, painfully a little, and yanked him down the mattress, leaning up to straddle his waist. 

"Mmm, you taste so good baby, so sweet. I'm gonna make you feel so good," he rambled, reaching to remove his own shorts, which were beginning to grow damp. 

Steve's cock twitched and pulsed at the lack of friction, but he knew Bruce would make him come hard. He spread his legs wide in anticipation, reaching down to spread his cheeks and reveal his hole. 

Bruce reached for a bottle of lube that sat on top of the nightstand beside the bed and quickly began to slick his cock. He used extra, making it sloppy so that Steve's hole hopefully wouldn't tear when he pressed inside. He knew he was much bigger than average, but Steve had been taking every inch like a champ since their first time together. 

He took his slicked fingers and traced them down Steve's balls, between his spread cheeks and down to his puffy hole to slick it too. 

"Oh, honey," Bruce suddenly stopped, eyes snapping down to Steve's entrance with something like concern on his face. "You're so swollen, are you torn?" He asked, looking gravely up at Steve. 

Steve felt his face flush hot and he turned away, drawing his knees together a bit. "I-it's fine," he laughed nervously, his arms drawing close to begin covering his chest. He was beginning to feel self-conscious and he already had enough in the way of nerves, never having been with another man before Bruce in his life. 

"It's okay, I'll still feel good, I promise," he nearly whispered, squirming a bit beneath the broader man. 

"Honey, no!" Bruce admonished, eyebrows beginning to furrow. "That's absolutely not okay. Don't ever let me hurt you! Did you tear?" He asked again, looking back to the ring of muscle, angry-red and swollen.

"I-I…I'm not sure, Sir," Steve responded quietly, growing deeper red. He still wouldn't make eye contact. "It's no big deal Bruce, I can handle it."

"I don't think so. Baby, you know I'm a doctor, why wouldn't you tell me you were in pain?"

"Who says I'm in-"

" _Honey_ ," Bruce cut the blonde off. "I'm a _doctor._ "

Steve sighed in resignation, then finally glanced at Bruce from the corner of his eye. "Well… _doctor_ …is it torn?"

Bruce sighed and looked back to Steve's hole, gently prodding it with his lubed finger. Steve hissed at the touch and flinched, then quickly pulled himself together, forcing himself to be still. 

"Mmhmm," Bruce tutted, going from sex-god mode to all-business professional mode so fast it could give Steve whiplash. "Spread your legs a little more for me," Bruce coached, pressing Steve's thighs farther apart even as he said it. 

"This is pretty embarrassing," Steve chuckled humorlessly. 

"Don't be embarrassed. I care about you too much to let you just… _do that_. I'm going to press a finger inside. You tell me if you feel any burning."

He gently pressed his first finger past Steve's ring of muscle and he paused when Steve bit back a tiny yelp, slowly pressing in farther after a moment. Slowly, he began to run his finger along the walls of Steve's entrance, examining the muscle on the outside as he did. 

"Seems to be okay. Still, if you can't handle it-"

"I can! I promise I can handle it! I want to make you feel good, I want to please you!" Steve yelped, worried that Bruce was going to decide that sex wasn't on the table anymore. "I'm just sore from last night, I promise!"

"Do you need me to use more lube?" Bruce asked, slowly petting at Steve's insides with his fingertip without realizing it. Steve's eyes closed slowly and he smiled, feeling the tiny fireworks inside himself sizzling and preparing to explode. 

"Mm, yeah. Deeper too, please Sir," he breathed, feeling his face growing hot again.

Bruce was confused for a second, then he realized what he was doing to Steve. He chuckled and reached for the lube again, dribbling a bit onto his finger before beginning to work it in and out of the blonde, consciously this time. 

"I meant when we make love. Should I be using more lube to keep you from getting so sore?"

Steve's eyes popped open wide and he blinked a few times, wrapping his head around what Bruce had said. 

"Make love?" Steve parroted, feeling his heart flutter. 

"Sure," Bruce replied, semi-distracted as he gently pressed his finger in fully. "It's not just fucking. It's showing love. Unless…this is just fucking for you?" 

"No!" Steve was quick to assert. "It's more than just sex for me."

"Good. How are you feeling? Still doing okay?"

Steve nodded fervently. "Please more?" He begged shamelessly.

"I suppose, but you need to be better at communicating. If it hurts, _please_ please tell me."

"Okay, okay, yes," Steve grinned. "I will, I promise."

Bruce drizzled a bit more lube onto his second finger and very gently began to work it inside of Steve. He heard a soft clacking noise and looked up at Steve's face.

The tall blonde's eyes were closed and his head was thrown back, lips parted. His teeth chattered with the force of his excitement, or perhaps his pleasure, Bruce couldn't be sure. He noted that the man's nipples were hard and erect and goosebumps spread across his skin.

"We doing okay, honey?" Bruce called softly, watching Steve's lips quirk up into a crooked grin. 

"Yeah, yeah good, so good," Steve began to ramble. His hips began to swivel as he pressed down against Bruce's hand. 

"Oh, honey," Bruce moaned, taking hold of his own aching cock and squeezing. He wasn't sure if he felt comfortable penetrating Steve with how sore and swollen he'd been, but his cock ached for relief, and seeing his shiny fingers thrusting in and out of his new lover didn't make it any easier. "Can I give you one more?" He asked softly, his own dark eyes hooded with lust. "Or would it be too much?"

"No, please! Give me more, I can take it all. Put your cock inside me," Steve begged, and Bruce groaned, conflicted. 

"We'll see how you do with just my fingers, okay?" Bruce replied, quickly pulling his fingers from Steve with a squelch and coating his whole hand with more lube. 

Steve let out a breathy sound of pleasure when Bruce slid his fingers back in, tapping and rubbing against his prostate expertly. The brunette saw his face turn a deeper shade of red and smiled when Steve couldn't control his own motions, squirming and writhing beneath him.

"You can put it in!" Steve assured, eyes squeezed shut tightly. "Please put it in!" He begged.

"For a man that's never been with another man before, you sure are a little cock slut," Bruce grinned as he examined Steve's rim one more time before he made his decision.

He quickly glanced back to Steve's eyes when he noted that the man had stopped all of his motions completely and saw that he looked humiliated. His eyes were cast away and his mouth was turned down like he was holding back a pout. Bruce sucked in a quick breath when he realized his mistake.

"Oh! Uh, I mean, Sir's _good_ little cock slut," he tried to amend, hoping he hadn't turned the man completely off. "My good boy, my sweet lover," he continued, stroking Steve's sweaty hair with his free hand when he didn't react. "I didn't mean to call you that, I'm sorry," he finally murmured, halting all of his motions to lean over the blonde and capture his attention once again without removing his hand from inside of him. "Do you need me to stop?"

"I…" Steve began softly, still looking away at nothing. "I don't like it when you say mean things," he finally managed, eyes beginning to glisten wetly. 

"I know, I'm sorry babe. I didn't mean to hurt you. Do you want me to stop?" He asked again. Steve paused for a moment before he answered back.

"No, it's okay. Sorry I'm so sensitive," he tried to smile weakly. 

"Don't apologize, it was my mistake. I won't say it again, I promise."

Steve nodded and quickly wiped his eyes, taking a deep breath and pulling on a fake smile for the man. 

"It's okay to not be okay, my love," Bruce cooed sweetly, smoothing Steve's hair back.

Steve's smile turned genuine and he laughed a bit, finally turning to look the man in the eye again. 

"My love?" He repeated. He said it jestingly, but his joy was evident in the way his face glowed. 

"My sweet pea, angelfish, chickadee, sugar pie," Bruce grinned, gently sliding his fingers from inside Steve once again, drawing a soft hiss of discomfort from the man. He carefully lowered himself on top of Steve fully, resting his elbows to either side of the blonde's head, trying to be a comforting presence. "Little love, my baby daddy, sugar plum-"

"Okay! Okay," Steve chuckled, laughing as Bruce leaned forward to claim his lips. They kissed softly and deeply for a few moments before it turned heated once again, and Steve couldn't stop smiling to himself. He'd never made love to anyone in the way Bruce was loving him at that moment. It was deep and passionate and everything that Steve had ever hoped for.

He could feel the tiny sparks igniting inside himself again and he knew that the explosion wouldn't be too much farther away. This time, instead of asking, Steve decided to take a bit of what he wanted.

He reached between them as he kissed Bruce, dirty and full of tongue, and gripped his length firmly, pumping a few times softly before he began to guide it between his own legs. He spread his thighs wide, stretching his hips excitedly.

"Blue-" Bruce whispered, leaning up and glancing down between them.

"It's okay, Bruce, just go slow, okay? I promise it's alright."

Bruce nodded, then looked down to watch Steve playing with his own entrance using the tip of his cock and he shivered. 

"God, you're so sweet, Steven," he whispered before finally pressing into the blonde.

They made love sweet and slow into the late morning, light kisses and sweet nothings tossed with abandon.

When Steve began to feel the fireworks starting to bloom within his gut and groin, head and heart, he turned lust-filled crystal eyes to the ceiling and cried out in a hoarse voice. They'd only made love a few times, but so far, this had been the best for Steve. It was still so new and unfamiliar to him, but he loved the way it felt to come from the inside out.

"That's it, baby. Are you gonna come for me? Come for Sir," Bruce coaxed, voice low and throaty. Sweaty curls stuck to his forehead, and his hooded eyes were full of Steve. He tilted his hips forward and lengthened his strokes, dragging slow and hard against Steve's velvety walls. He rubbed persistently against his swollen prostate, watching Steve quiver and jerk with each burst of stimulation. 

After a moment that felt too short, Steve clenched his muscles around Bruce, clutching at his shoulders with clawed hands and wrapping his thighs tightly around the brunette's waist. He arched his back into the man, throwing his head back and exposing his throat prettily.

He let out a cry as he shot his load forcefully against Bruce's stomach and chest, splashing up onto his chin. A few hot tears escaped from the corners of his closed eyes, and Bruce's senses went into overload at the feast he was being served.

He let out a breath like he'd been hit, unable to hold himself back and he came deep inside of Steve, pinning him down with heavy hands.

They lay panting together for a moment before Bruce pulled back enough to check on Steve, finding him gasping quick soft breaths, eyes still closed and wet.

"Y'okay, Blue?" Bruce asked, still catching his breath. He reached a big hand up to wipe away a few of the tears that had rolled down Steve's temple. "Did I hurt you?" he whispered.

Steve quickly shook his head, reaching his own hand up to swipe at his other temple, pulling on a quick smile.

"No, I'm-no, I'm okay," Steve assured, voice soft and spent.

"You're crying," Bruce pointed out.

"It's good tears," Steve grinned, lowering his legs stiffly back down to the mattress and relaxing his muscles with a groan. "The boom is so much bigger from the inside, it's so overwhelming."

"The boom?" Bruce questioned.

"The fireworks," Steve replied as if the answer cleared everything up for the brunette.

Bruce chuckled and pulled his softening member from inside of Steve gently. "Well, I'm glad I could be of service," he teased, grin huge and bright.

Steve grinned back Cheshire cat wide, lifting his hands above his head, stretching gracefully with pleasure beneath his new lover. 

Bruce hummed with appreciation as he watched his lithe new lover thrum with pleasure that he'd been able to provide to the man and he let out a sigh, pupils dilated dizzyingly. 

"Did you enjoy that then?" Bruce asked against Steve's chest, kissing the flesh there sweetly.

Steve giggled, pretending he didn't, and nodded again. "Amazing," he replied. "So much for getting dressed."

"Good. Let's get cleaned up and I'll make us breakfast. We have a day to fill up our together reservoirs to last us until we have a day to ourselves again."

"Together reservoirs?" Steve asked quizzically, tilting his head like the golden retriever he was.

"Yeah, like the well. We fill each other's well and then we have water to drink until we fill up again," Bruce stated, watching Steve's face softly.

Steve felt his heart swell at Bruce's words and his cheeks hurt from grinning so wide for so long. 

"I like that."

"Me too, now let's get cleaned up. We're wasting our day!" Bruce urged, slowly climbing off of Steve and standing back up. He held his hand out and helped pull the blonde up carefully, watching for anything on Steve's face that would suggest pain.

They showered separately, Steve too embarrassed to shower with Bruce. Bruce had tried to convince Steve to just shower with him, but Steve had insisted that it would be too embarrassing to clean himself properly with Bruce as witness.

Bruce had shaken his head with a smile but had waited patiently for his turn, knowing that Steve undoubtedly wasn't used to cleaning come from his insides. He could understand how it might make the man uncomfortable. 

When they'd both washed and dressed, Bruce was true to his word, making Steve a fancy breakfast that the brunette said was "Asian inspired".

It was some sort of omelet that was rolled into a spiral and filled with cheeses, leeks, and soy sauce, and Steve loved it. Bruce had paired it with cottage cheese and a few slices of fresh peach, saying it was a healthy, hearty, and satisfying. It truly was. 

Steve's favorite part was all the slow kisses Bruce stole throughout the meal.

When they had finished, Steve collected their plates and utensils, scraping the scraps into the garbage can before depositing them into the sink. 

"You wanna go for a walk, or maybe catch a movie?" Bruce suggested, having crossed the kitchen to wrap his arms around Steve's waist.

"Hmm, maybe. Actually," Steve began, finding his thoughts wandering back to the hospital. "I was kind of thinking about spending a little time with Peter today. Maybe an hour or so?" He glanced back over his shoulder at Bruce as he waited for a response. He knew Bruce wasn't exactly sold on the Peter front.

"Today? It's our only day off together for a while, though," Bruce replied.

"Well, you could always come with me. You're a doctor, they'd most likely let you in. And then I wouldn't have to choose between you. It wouldn't be that long either."

"Yeah, but Blue…I don't know. I don't really want to spend our day together in a hospital trying to win over some menacing wolf-child."

Steve stiffened a bit in Bruce's arms, then turned around slowly to face him, leaning back against the sink with eyebrows furrowed. 

"He's not some feral creature, he's a man, a young man!" Steve scolded, upset at Bruce's words.

Bruce chuckled defensively, taking a small step back, raising his hands in defense."Easy, tiger. I didn't-"

"I heard what you said. You said what you meant. I still feel like he needs me, and I want to be there for him. I don't think that's wrong."

"Hey! I didn't say it was wrong, now, you're putting words in my mouth!" Bruce exclaimed, still holding his hands up non-threateningly. "I'm sorry! I didn't mean to upset you, but…what about me? Don't you want to spend the day with me? We won't be getting these days too often with our busy lives…" Bruce trailed off trying to make his point while simultaneously trying to keep Steve diffused. He didn't know Steve completely yet and he'd never seen a bad day, but he guessed that the blonde was a real firecracker when he got worked up.

"You know how much I love James," Steve growled again but softer. "You know what a huge part of my life he is."

"Honey, James isn't Peter. Look, I'm just saying, I want to spend my day with you. Don't you want me too?" He asked, reaching forward to place his hands on the edge of the sink on either side of Steve, stepping forward to trap him in. He smiled and leaned forward, nuzzling his nose against the side of the taller man's neck, nipping and kissing at him playfully.

Steve breathed a laugh through his nose and Bruce could feel his body softening, defensiveness leaving him. He pressed his body against Steve's gently. 

"C'mon, think of all the fun we could have," he murmured, pressing his thigh gently between Steve's legs. 

Steve moaned softly and closed his eyes, completely receptive and open to Bruce now. He tilted his head to the side to invite more attention from the man. 

Bruce grinned, knowing he'd won, and placed his hands on Steve's trim waist, sliding his hands down over his ass before gripping it possessively with a little growl. Steve let out a little surprised sound when Bruce began guiding his hips, grinding his soft cock slowly on Bruce's thigh. He laughed a strained, jittery sound, realizing he couldn't back away when he was already pressed against the sink.

"Bruce," he forced out with a fake laugh. "You're gonna get me all worked up again." He heard Bruce laugh softly against his throat.

"What's wrong with that, sweetheart?" Bruce asked, dragging his tongue up across Steve's adam's apple, up the middle of his chin and to the bottom of his lip, before stopping to smile playfully at the taller blonde. 

Steve felt his heart thump in his chest and his forehead grew clammy. He swallowed thickly and pulled on a watery grin. He was in no way afraid of Bruce, but he was very afraid of the way he might react if he rejected his advances. Their relationship was so juvenile, Bruce might take it the wrong way. 

"Do you _want_ to play?" Bruce asked outright, cutting through Steve's thoughts. He pressed his knee up higher, yanking a gasp from the blonde as he did. Steve decided he needed to be honest.

"Brucie," he choked out, lifting onto his tiptoes to try to escape the pressure. "Let's wait a little bit, huh?" Steve asked, carefully watching Bruce's face.

Bruce's eyebrows lifted in surprise, but his smile didn't drop. He lowered his leg back to the ground and his fingers loosed their grip on Steve's ass. 

"Everything okay?" He asked, softening his entire presence. 

"Yeah! Yeah, everything's fine….This morning was mind-blowing," Steve chuckled nervously, feeling his face flush. "But, I can't take it again so soon, I'm sorry." He turned away, feeling a mixture of worry and embarrassment. 

Bruce snorted incredulously. "Sorry? You take my dick like a champion, I can wait until you're ready. How are you feeling now? Do you need me to take a look at anything?" He offered sweetly. "Some pain killers?"

Steve breathed a sigh of relief and let himself relax at the brunette's words. "No, I-I'm okay. Thank you," he smiled, relaxing back into Bruce's arms. "You're not mad at me?"

"Wow," Bruce replied, looking up at Steve like he were a fairy tale.

"Wow what?" Steve asked nervously. 

"You really are so fresh. You've been in relationships with women, haven't you?" Bruce questioned. Steve's face caught fire with embarrassment. 

"I have! I've had a couple of long term relationships, and some other things, too."

"Did you ever get mad at them for not wanting sex?" Bruce pressed.

Steve's face grew a darker shade of red and his gaze was on his shoes. "I've…gotten mad at them for wanting… _too much_ sex," he admitted quietly. Bruce paused as he processed the information.

"Okay…well…no, I'm not mad at you. I'll have to keep that in mind though, I can definitely get in a mood where all I want is sex, so I'll have to remember that you don't like that."

"Maybe it'll be different now. With a different partner," Steve suggested. Bruce had never seen him look so shy, including the first night they'd been together while Tony had watched.

"You have definitely done a few things that you never had before," Bruce agreed. "So what do you say? Stay home and cuddle, or go out and do something?" 

Steve thought about it for a moment. He still very badly wanted to go visit Peter, but Bruce clearly wasn't comfortable with it. He'd have a bit of time tomorrow after work, but it might end up being too late to have visitors.

Steve sighed and shrugged his shoulders. "Wanna pick a movie?"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, I'd like to be able to answer at least most of your questions from the cliffhanger from the first story (assuming you read it), but I'd like to know what those questions are! Did you like the beginning? Hate it? 
> 
> Also, I suck at technology and cannot figure out how to add this to my series so that they can stay together. Bare with me until I hopefully, finally do!


	2. Sour Candy

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bruce's face stayed placid and Steve noted a bit of annoyance in the way his jaw was set.
> 
> "Sorry," he murmured softly. "I think it'll be okay. No parent ever knows how to handle balancing everything, but they eventually figure it out, right?" Steve defended.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Even though I look like a burrrrnt chicken nugget...I still love myself.

Steve sighed as he flipped his turn signal on, heading for the hospital. He'd had a long day, making a few calls for domestic violence, some kids lighting firecrackers in a dumpster behind an old bakery, and old woman that needed help with some household chores, which Steve had been happy to do himself.

Bruce was working a double shift on the other side of town and wasn't going to be home until very late, having to wake up early in the morning to do it again, so Steve knew they wouldn't be able to talk that night. 

The hospital that housed Peter was on the polar opposite of the town, and a few miles from where Steve worked at the police precinct. He'd called ahead to let them know he was on his way, knowing he was cutting it close with visiting hours. 

He hadn't had the time to see much of Peter since they'd rescued him from the cold damp cellar he'd been locked in. As far as he was aware, they hadn't found an identity from the body that had been found there with him either.

Steve scrubbed his hand over his face as he turned into the parking lot, trying to push thoughts of the corpse as far from his mind as he could. He quickly put his vehicle in park and pocketed his keys, stepping out into the chilly autumn air, regretting not having brought a jacket. 

He crossed the lot quickly, noting how few cars there were in it. There were only about twenty minutes left of visiting hours, and he hoped they wouldn't turn him away or kick him out early. He so badly wanted to create a relationship with Peter. In the back of his mind, he wished to have a loving relationship with the boy the way Tony had with James, except without the romantic parts. 

He had Bruce in his life, and he was happy with him, but he couldn't understand what it was that made Bruce shy away from Peter. Sure, he was going to be difficult to get through to, but Steve was willing to do everything he could for the young man.

He'd seen the huge progress James had made in his life, having come so far from the scrawny man he'd met in Tony's passenger seat, to the healthy, sweet, smart man he was now. He wanted so badly to provide that for Peter. 

He headed for the front desk to sign himself in, being lead by an older nurse to the room where he was being housed. Steve steeled himself for whatever he may find, knowing that the poor boy had to be tied down and sedated for much of his new life. He understood why it was necessary but he didn't like it one bit. He dreamed of a day that Peter could wake up in a bed at Steve's house and smile while they had breakfast together. He couldn't wait to take James and Peter out together. He smiled at the thought and stopped at the room the nurse had lead him to. 

"He's awake, hon, but just barely. He'll need to get some rest soon," she informed Steve as she held her hand out for him to cross the threshold.

When Steve stepped inside, he found Peter immediately. The boy was huddled in the corner, curled with his knees under his chin. His head lolled a bit, looking profusely drowsy, and Steve guessed that he'd been sedated recently. 

"Hey, Petey," Steve called softly, dropping down to kneel, not wanting to seem threatening. He saw that the boy's tired eyes didn't react and he wasn't sure if he'd even heard him.

"How are you, Pete?" He tried again, this time noting Peter's dark chocolate eyes shifting to look at him. Steve pulled on a warm smile and slowly reached out to touch his leg. The hospital gown he wore practically drowned him.

Peter began to make a sound, a tiny whimper in his throat and his breathing sped, though he didn't move. 

"It's okay, honey. Do you remember me?" He asked quietly, not expecting an answer. "I brought you something special. Your brother James loves these," he spoke as he slowly reached for his pocket, pulling out a piece of blue taffy in a yellow wrapper.

He watched Peter's eyes flick wider opened at the mention of James, but he stayed curled in on himself. 

"Would you like to taste it?" Steve asked, peeling open the wrapper. He remembered laying on the floor with his arms outstretched toward James the first time he'd offered the candy and he smiled again. 

Peter let out a louder whimper as Steve inched closer and his eyes darted around as though he were looking for a way to escape. 

"It's okay, baby doll. It's yummy." He gently reached for Peter's leg again, just above where his ankle bone jutted out, and his fingertips grazed over dry, rough skin.

Peter jumped, leaping away from Steve's hand in a panic, letting out a scream that pierced Steve's eardrums. It was then that Steve noticed the padded shackles that bound Peter's boney wrists. They were hooked to the hospital bed and anchored to the wall, most likely to keep him from strangling himself. 

He thrashed and pulled at them, throwing himself as far as he could against his shackles, trying to stay as far as he could from Steve's reaching fingers. 

"Hey! Peter, it's okay! I won't hurt you, I promise!" Steve tried to be heard over the sounds of Peter's panicked screaming.

A team of nurses and a few doctors rushed into the room, surrounding Peter with practiced precision, pushing Steve aside against the wall.

He watched in dismay as they grabbed him, several of them holding him down as one of them administered a syringe full of clear liquid into his hip. Terrified tears ran down Peter's face and he shook his head wildly at the people surrounding him in a silent plea. Steve's heart broke to watch. 

"Is he okay? What's happening?" Steve asked as nurses passed back and forth in front of him, not receiving an answer. "Don't hurt him!"

"He's fine, sir, we just have to give him another dose of his sedative. It's time for him to sleep," a nurse with dark brown hair informed Steve, placing his hand gently against the blonde's shoulder. Steve could tell it was a gentle suggestion to not interfere and leave. 

"But, I barely got to see him, I-"

"Sir, he needs his sleep. You can come back tomorrow during the visiting hours. I'm sorry, he wouldn't be a very good conversationalist anyway," he added softly, kind eyes empathetic.

Steve looked over at where the nurses and doctors held Peter, beginning to get his sedated body onto the hospital bed and strapped down.

"Do you know this boy?" The nurse asked, finally lowering his hand from Steve's shoulder. 

"Not yet, I will though," Steve replied, watching Peter's face and wishing he could stay longer. "How old is he? Any ideas?"

"You're one of the officers that found him, huh?" The man responded with his own question instead of answering Steve's. He scanned the blonde's uniform quickly and Steve nodded. 

"You're the first visitor he's had," the man told Steve with a sad look in his eyes. "We think he's in his late teens, early twenties. It's hard to tell because he's so malnourished."

Steve's eyes grew huge at the thought that Peter could be so young and have already been through so much torture. 

"Has he talked to anyone?" Steve continued. 

"Not a word." The man motioned with his hand for Steve to follow him and he began walking toward the door. "We know he's been through a lot, but not a lot of us are very hopeful for him. Sometimes people just aren't able to come back after that much trauma," the man told Steve honestly. His dark blue eyes looked sad. 

"I don't accept that," Steve shook his head as they came to a stop in the empty hall outside of Peter's room. "He needs help. He just needs someone to be there for him. He can be okay," Steve told the nurse, trying to convince himself as well as the brunette. 

The man nodded his head for a moment, then paused, looking far away for a few moments.

"Well then, I hope you'll be here often. I don't think this kid has anyone else." He clapped Steve on the shoulder before he turned and entered back into Peter's room again. 

Steve drove home in silence, thinking about the boy he wanted to get closer to. Obviously, a little piece of candy wasn't going to help him open up the way James had, but Steve had no idea how to get him to understand. 

He didn't know if Peter truly didn't understand what was happening or if he just didn't want to know Steve. 

He tried not to take it personally. The poor young man had been abused in every way possible, and for all Steve knew, Peter just associated him with abuse. Maybe he'd take the time to pick up James soon and take him to the hospital with him. It made him nervous to think of exposing his sweet young friend to the horrors he'd lived through via Peter, but it might be the thing he needed to help break Peter out of his shell.

He entered his quiet, dark home and sighed again, knowing he'd be home alone tonight. He was already getting used to having Bruce around and it felt kind of empty now without him.

He inhaled deeply and smiled when Bruce's cologne still lingered in the air, and he decided to send him a quick text. It wasn't too late yet, and he knew the other man was still at work.

 _Hey, handsome. Just wanted to say that I miss you. I hope your day is over quickly for you and that you get some good sleep tonight before you have to go back tomorrow. I can't wait to see you again._ He hit send and crossed to his kitchen sink, grabbing a glass from the cupboard and filling it with tap water.

His phone pinged with a reply before he'd finished half of his drink, and he smiled, opening the message right away.

_Hey yourself, gorgeous. I hope your day wasn't too rough. Remember to eat before you go to sleep tonight. I can't wait to see you again. If I have time after my shift tomorrow and I'm not dead on my feet, I may be able to swing by the precinct before I go home. Hopefully, I'll see you then!_

Steve's grin grew huge and he finished his water, deciding to take Bruce's advice and eat something quickly before he went to sleep. He quickly grabbed a string cheese from his fridge and a handful of grapes that were on their last leg, and he picked at both of them. He knew Bruce most likely wouldn't approve, but at least it was something.

When he finished, he felt his exhaustion settle in heavier than it had been before. He probably wouldn't sleep well again that night, plagued by thoughts of Peter in a drug-induced stupor.

He so badly wanted to break the poor boy free, but deep down he knew he wouldn't be able to care for him properly. He could only hope that he'd have more time to see him the next day than he'd had tonight. He was determined to make a breakthrough soon.

Steve's day at the precinct was slow, mostly filled with paperwork and menial tasks. He spent the day with his head clouded in conflicting thoughts and emotions.

On one hand, he was excited to possibly see Bruce. It hadn't been all that long since they'd seen each other, but Steve was still buzzing with happiness in his new relationship, and he hadn't ever really felt this way before. Sure, he'd been in happy relationships in the past and he'd always enjoyed the honeymoon phase, but this just felt different to him. It made him feel like he was glowing from the inside out.

On the other hand, the thought of not being able to help the emaciated boy in the hospital regain his life back was haunting and strong. He couldn't wait to see the young man that evening if all went well.

Distantly in the back of his mind, he reminded himself to call Tony to make a date with James. He hadn't taken him out in a while and he wanted to catch up. James had been doing well at his job at the animal shelter and he seemed to be pretty happy overall.

"Hey!" He heard behind him, snapping him from his thoughts with a start. He turned with wide eyes and was met with Bruce's broad grin. He had a brown bag and a cardboard cup in his hands. "Surprise!" He smiled."I got done a little early, thought I'd bring you a little pick-me-up."

He handed the items to Steve and leaned in awkwardly, pausing half-way. He looked like he wasn't sure if he should hug Steve in his place of work.

Steve felt his face heat and he smiled, leaning forward the rest of the way and placing a quick kiss on the man's cheek. His short beard hairs scraped pleasantly against Steve's lips and he felt his face grow pinker.

"Thanks, Bruce!" He smiled happily, setting the cup and bag onto his desk beside him. "That's sweet of you."

"Well, I figured you might not have had much time to eat so…" he trailed off, his grin growing crooked as he looked away with a grimace.

Steve chuckled. Bruce was awkward sometimes. He wondered if it made his patients more or less comfortable with him.

"So, what are you doing after work?" Bruce asked, breaking the comfortable silence.

"Well, I actually get done in a few hours. I was hoping to make it over to the hospital to visit with Peter. I haven't been able to stop thinking about him. I should make it there with about an hour to spare. Then I'm just going home to sleep. What about you?" Steve replied, leaning back to sit on the edge of his desk.

Bruce edged forward, closer to Steve. It didn't look like he realized he was doing it, but seeing Bruce standing over him made something in Steve want to spread his thighs a little more. Bruce subconsciously moved forward again, between Steve's knees.

"Honestly, I'm going to grab a salad on my way home and then crash until tomorrow morning. Today was rough. Had a little girl come in anaphylactic and almost lost her. Cashew allergy," he clarified, setting his hand gently on Steve's bony kneecap.

"Glad she pulled through," Steve replied honestly.

"Yeah. So, Peter, huh? What are you hoping for with him?" Bruce pressed, tired eyes drifting to Steve's lips.

"Long term, I'm sure you know I want to give him a good life. A new start, you know? But short term, I just…want him to trust me. I feel like being there as much as possible is what's going to help him the most."

Bruce looked away for a moment as he thought about what Steve was saying.

"You don't think it's too much for you? To have him on top of everything else you're doing? What happens when you get him to a place where you can bring him home? It'll be like having a newborn in the house. How are you possibly going to juggle work, him, me, sleep, curricular-"

"Curriculars?" Steve snorted, finding humor in the way the word made him feel like he was talking to a high school administrator.

Bruce's face stayed placid and Steve noted a bit of annoyance in the way his jaw was set.

"Sorry," he murmured softly. "I think it'll be okay. No parent ever knows how to handle balancing everything, but they eventually figure it out, right?" Steve defended.

"Yeah but Steve," Bruce continued, the annoyance beginning to creep into his voice now too. "It's not…it's not a _parent_ situation, you're willfully choosing to disrupt your life for this… _kid_ that you don't know."

"Are you worried that I won't have time for you?" Steve asked suddenly, thinking he may have hit on something when Bruce's eyebrows raised a bit.

"Oh, I'm not worried about that. I think if you want me in your life then you'll see to it that I stay." His words sent a shiver down Steve's spine, seeming almost ominous. "I just think you won't be able to handle it."

"Yeah but," Steve tried to reason, an unsure smile on his lips. "We're partners. So you would support me, right? Make sure I'm…brushing my teeth, and those things, right?" Steve smiled hopefully up at Bruce, leaning forward a bit to peer up into his dark eyes. "Right Brucie?" He asked again, softer; sweeter.

Bruce scoffed quietly under his breath and looked away like he was gathering his thoughts. "Yeah. Like I said before, I don't know that I'm ready to become a step-parent. I don't know this kid, and I don't necessarily want to adopt him right this very minute. I want to be with you _first._ Kids are something you talk about later down the road, you know?" Bruce responded, looking like he was trying his best to not snap at Steve.

Steve felt his shoulders hunch and he shrank in a bit, feeling thoroughly reprimanded. He glanced up at Bruce, who seemed even taller now, towering over Steve. "Okay," he practically whispered.

"C'mon honey, don't pout," Bruce murmured, catching Steve's chin in his hand and gently rubbing it with his thumb. "Let's make plans to see each other this week, okay? I have a morning shift on Thursday. How's the evening for you?" Bruce asked, successfully changing the subject.

Steve leaned into Bruce's touch and quickly thought about his schedule. "I have that night too, actually," he agreed, peering up at Bruce still.

Bruce smiled and licked his lips. "Great. Dinner at seven?" He asked, and Steve nodded, glancing at Bruce's lips hopefully.

Bruce's grin turned up a bit more with an aire of victory and he finally leaned forward to kiss Steve.

He started slow, pressing chaste kisses to Steve's lips, but was soon pushing for more, pressing his tongue between Steve's lips for access. Within a moment, he was forcing Steve's jaw wide and invading his mouth with his own slippery tongue.

Steve sucked in a sharp breath through his nose and gripped Bruce's elbow, clutching tightly as his head began to spin. His thighs spread wider, inviting Bruce closer between them and he let out an involuntary little moan.

" _Rogers,_ " He heard suddenly, both Steve and Bruce startling at the sound. Steve sprang to his feet, jumping off the desk. His face flushed red and his eyes were wide and round as he responded to the voice yelling his name.

It was Commander Laufeyson, his shaggy black hair tucked behind his ears and his bright green eyes flashing. He reminded Steve of a black cat, face sharp and gaze piercing. He didn't look very impressed. 

"Y-yes, sir," Steve replied nervously, ashamed at getting caught with his new lover in his office.

"Let's keep the hooking up for after work hours, shall we? You still have work to do," he reminded gruffly, thrusting a small stack of folders at Steve.

"Yes sir," Steve repeated quietly, taking the folders quickly and tucking them in his arms, looking like a schoolboy with his books held in front of his chest. "I'm very sorry Commander. It won't happen again," he promised.

"I hope not, Captain. I won't be as kind next time."

Steve nodded and waited with his breath held until the commander left, leaving the door open purposefully behind him. Once he was gone, Steve let out the breath he held and scrubbed his hands over his face.

"Fuck," he groaned quietly.

"Hey, Blue, I really should get going anyway, I have to get up at three-thirty," Bruce stated, moving toward the door from where he stood by the desk.

"Oh, right, of course," Steve sighed, turning toward Bruce for a quick embrace.

"Uh-uh," Bruce held up his hand, looking toward the open door. "I'll see you Thursday, kid," he smiled over his shoulder with a wink as he headed out the door. "Have fun with Peter," he called before disappearing.

Steve slumped down into his chair with the bundle of files he still needed to process before he could go and he groaned. 

" _Fuck._ "

Steve rushed to the hospital, driving as fast as he legally could. It took around a half-hour to cross town and he didn't want to get caught in traffic.

When he pulled into the parking lot, he rushed through the doors into the building, heading straight for the check-in desk.

"I'm here to see Peter!" He announced, reaching for the clipboard to write his name and the time down.

"Which Peter?" The older woman at the desk asked, and Steve realized, the boy didn't even have a last name. He literally had _nothing._ Not clothing to wear, not a toy to entertain himself with, or a book to color…not even a last name.

"I…" Steve began, trying to organize his thoughts.

"Oh, _that_ Peter," the woman replied. "Nice to see somebody here for that poor creature." Steve bristled at the word but held his composure.

"You don't have a last name for him, officer?" She asked, eyeing his name tag.

"No, I got jack shit on the poor kid," he responded, putting emphasis on _kid._ He thought for a moment, then asked the woman a question of his own. "How long do I have until visiting hours are over?"

"Just over an hour, you got till seven."

Steve nodded and thanked her, then headed down the hall toward Peter's room.

He felt his heartbeat speed up while he walked, anxious about how the boy would react to seeing Steve two nights in a row.

He stopped outside his door and took a deep breath, pulling on an easy smile before he crossed the threshold.

"Uh, hey there, bud. Can I come in?" He asked, pausing just inside the door. He saw that Peter had been tethered to the bed today. He still cowered in the corner of the bed, head hung low. His back was hunched down and curved and his hands held onto his head as he rocked gently.

At the sound of Steve's voice, Peter's head turned and he peered at Steve through owlish brown eyes from behind his arms. He looked much more alert today than he had the night before. His eyes quickly darted around the room as if searching for something, or someone. 

When he didn't find what he'd been looking for, his gaze snapped back to Steve and he let out a long, high pitched whine from his chest.

"Petey? I hope you don't mind that I came here today," he spoke softly and decided to try to slowly sit right where he was. Maybe Peter would feel less threatened if Steve stayed as far away as he could.

Peter's head lifted a bit as he watched Steve sit down, unblinking and curious.

"Peter, my name is Steve. Do you remember me?" He asked, swallowing a lump in his throat.

Peter's eyes drifted away and it looked like he was chewing carefully on the question Steve had given him. After a moment, his eye flicked back and he gave one short, barely-there nod. His body hadn't changed position at all.

Steve couldn't stop the enormous grin that spread across his face at Peter's answer.

"You remember me, good! Hello, Peter! How are you? Can you talk to me?" Steve questioned excitedly.

Peter seemed to think again, but he gave no reply. He gently tested the bonds around his hands, finding himself still connected to the bed. He let out another whine and dropped his head back down.

"I'm sorry buddy, they're trying to keep you safe," Steve tried to explain, knowing his words wouldn't really help the young man. He remembered the way James had been intricately tied to the bed in Clint's torture room and could guess that Peter was reminded of those awful times of being chained up.

"I won't hurt you. No one here will." he kept his voice comforting, thankful that most of the hallway was quiet behind him. Steve heard the boy sigh.

"How old are you Peter?" Steve asked, hoping for an answer. He waited for a moment when he once again didn't get one.

"I'm glad you're okay."

He looked over Peter while he had the chance, trying to see what he could from that far away. He was still mostly skin and bone, but his skin tone was beginning to warm up. When Steve had pulled him from the cellar, his skin was so pale that it looked almost blue.

He looked much cleaner, and his hair was fluffy and no longer matted with grease and grime. The dark circles under his eyes looked lighter, though Steve knew that Peter hadn't really been there long enough for any bigger changes to happen.

"Can I come a little closer?" Steve spoke after a moment. "Maybe sit in that chair? This floor's pretty hard," he tried to joke. He watched Peter for a reaction, but it didn't seem like he was outwardly giving him one. Steve knew he was listening though because Steve could see his eyes watching and thinking.

Slowly, he decided to try to stand and when Peter still didn't move, Steve took a small step forward.

Peter's head jerked up and he watched Steve's every move intently. Steve took another slow step and Peter began to turn his body in Steve's direction, matching Steve's speed. He'd be lying if he said it wasn't a little bit unnerving.

"I'm going to go over there," he pointed at the chair on the other side of the nightstand. "And I'm just going to slowly sit down." He raised his hands up unhurriedly so that Peter could watch them and he gradually crossed the room.

Peter began to whine a bit, eyes darting between Steve and the door again, no doubt looking for someone else to be there with him. Steve dimly realized that he might have been looking for the other person they'd found in the cellar. 

Peter quickly stretched his legs a bit, straightening them enough to stand and turn his body around before he hunched back down and wrapped his arms around himself again. He clearly didn't trust Steve at all.

"I promise you, I won't touch you this time. And, I'm really sorry that I touched you last night without your permission. I should have asked first." Steve watched Peter watching him as he finally reached the chair, lowering himself painfully slowly into it. "But I thought you might still like that candy I brought for you last night." He slowly reached for his pocket, pulling out a small handful of wrapped taffies, and reached forward to drop them on the small stand between them. Steve noted that there were no flowers and his heart squeezed for a moment as he thought about why.

Peter looked from him to the candies and back again, but he made no move toward them.

"I…know that you don't trust me, and I understand why. It's okay, you don't have to…but, I hope you'll let me keep visiting you?" Steve asked, nonchalantly reaching forward to peel the wrapper off one of the candies; a blue one. He set it back down on the table, closest to Peter. He then slowly began to unwrap a red one, setting the wrapper down. "I know you've been through a lot," Steve continued. "Have you ever had candy?" He slowly took a bite, showing Peter what to do with the small blue rectangle.

Peter watched him with interest but looked too afraid to move toward it.

"You won't get in trouble," Steve assured, sitting back in his chair to appear farther away. He didn't want to pose any kind of threat. "You can eat anything you want, now." He made a mental note to ask the next doctor he saw how Peter was being fed. Tony had told Steve about the battle he'd had to get James to eat again when he'd come back from Clint's house.

"Will you try it?" Steve pressed, smiling as he ate the second half of his own candy.

Peter looked almost conflicted, eyes gazing at the candy hungrily. Steve wondered if some form of reverse psychology might work.

"Well, if you won't eat it, I'll gladly have it," he grinned as he slowly reached toward the unwrapped treat. He watched Peter gasp and make a decision, snapping his arm out almost faster than Steve could see and snatching the candy from the table.

He turned his body to the side, huddling close to the wall, and he looked back at Steve with frightened eyes, like he was waiting for the blonde to punish or yell.

"Try it!" Steve urged, electing to ignore the fear instead of acknowledging it.

He watched as Peter nervously sniffed at the candy, then finally, lifted it to his lips. He took the tiniest bite from the end of it and began to chew it as he continued watching Steve warily.

His eyes fluttered closed and he took another, bigger bite, savoring it with a tiny moan.

Steve laughed, pleased with the boy's reaction. "That's your brother's favorite kind. Do you remember James? Or, Bucky?" Steve resented the name and it felt bitter on his tongue.

The only reaction Peter gave Steve was to aim his dark brown eyes in his direction. Besides that, he didn't respond, nibbling the candy into his mouth much like a baby squirrel. 

"Would you like another one?" Steve asked, changing the subject as he reached to unwrap a green piece.

Peter seemed to perk up then, cheeks full of blue candy. He inched his way just a little closer to Steve on the bed, watching carefully as Steve unwrapped the treat.

When Steve held the piece of sugar out for Peter to take from his hand, the young man seemed conflicted. He gazed at the candy longingly, but still kept his eyes on Steve, wary of the man. 

"It's okay. I won't hurt you, Peter," Steve encouraged gently, watching the boy's thoughts in his eyes. "You can take it."

Slowly, cautiously, Peter reached his hand toward Steve, watching the man carefully. The bonds on his wrists stopped him before he could reach and he let out a little whine. Steve breathed a soft laugh and carefully leaned forward, not too fast so he didn't scare the young man. 

When Peter saw that Steve had stopped before he could touch, he reached carefully for the candy again, grazing his cold fingertips across Steve's palm as he accepted the gift. 

"Mmmm," he moaned at Steve, long and low, lips pressed tightly closed. Steve felt his heart swell. It was like his own way of thanking the man and it was the first sound Steve had heard him make that wasn't a scream.

"Good, huh, bud?" Steve smiled, sitting back in his chair carefully. Peter shuffled back to the opposite side of the bed, but it was unhurried this time. He didn't look quite as terrified, just curious. 

Peter nibbled the second candy until his cheeks were bulging full of sugar, and Steve had to hold back his chuckles at the boy, wide eyes, cheeks full, and lips blue. 

"You're so sweet," Steve smiled, unwrapping another candy and placing it on the edge of the table between them. Peter slowly chewed the wad of candy in his mouth, then trepidatiously began to reach for the new one when a nurse knocked on the frame of the door.

"Hey, Peter!" He called. It was the brunette man from the night before. 

Peter jumped back, huddling in on himself again as he watched the man come closer, whining low in his chest. He glanced from the nurse to Steve and his eyes were wide again.

"You have a visitor today, how nice!" He called cheerfully as he made his way across the room. Steve sat up a bit in his chair, noticing that Peter was becoming more agitated and frantic the closer the man got. 

Before the man could reach either Peter or Steve, he paused, looking at the candies on the table. 

"Did...did you get him to eat?" He asked, looking at Steve in surprise. 

Steve swallowed before he nodded slowly. "Yeah, I gave him a few pieces of candy. I hope that's alright. I didn't think it would be a big deal," he trailed off nervously as he realized that he didn't know if Peter was allowed the candy or not. 

"Yeah! No, yeah, that's wonderful!" The man in scrubs replied enthusiastically. "Nobody has been able to get him to eat since he came here! We've had to force-feed him!" 

Steve didn't know how to reply, looking at the nurse in surprise. "Oh," he finally managed, unsure what else there was to say.

"Please, feel free to bring him food any time you want! If we can get him to eat on his own, we won't have to tube feed him anymore. It's very stressful on him, he has to be sedated for it."

Steve wondered if there was anything he didn't need to be sedated for.

"Okay, well…I'll bring something for him to eat next time I come," he assured. 

"Alright, Peter," the man continued, looking at the frightened boy now. "It's time for your sleeping medication." He pulled a syringe with a cap on it and a clear vial of liquid from his pocket, and Peter panicked. 

He began to thrash and let out short, piercing screeches, trying to climb his way out of the hospital bed.

"I don't think he wants that very much," Steve informed the man, standing and holding his hand out as if to protect Peter. 

"He doesn't like it, but we have to be sure he sleeps through the night," the man informed Steve, uncapping the syringe and stabbing it into the top of the vial, filling it anyway. 

"Isn't there a…a nicer way to do that? You're coming after him with a sharp object, he's probably scared!" Steve defended, moving closer to Peter to stand between them.

"Sir, I'll have to ask you not to interfere with his medications or you'll need to leave," the nurse told Steve calmly. 

Steve glanced at his watch quickly. "I still have twenty minutes before visiting hours are over!" He cried.

"Then I suggest you stand aside and allow me to administer the sedative."

Steve thought for a moment, looking over his shoulder at Peter. 

The boy had crawled close to Steve and was cowering behind him, watching the nurse from over his shoulder. Steve felt awful, like he was betraying him, but he sighed and slowly turned toward Peter. 

"Hey, buddy. It's time for your medicine, okay? Then we can talk some more and maybe have some more candy."

"I don't suggest any more taffy, he could choke. He'll get very drowsy very quickly."

Steve sighed and nodded. "Can I hold your hand while you get a shot?" He asked Peter softly, holding his hand out palm up. 

He could tell that the boy didn't understand, but he waited to see if Peter would venture forward and touch Steve. He watched Peter look from the syringe in the man's hand back to his own outstretched hand and make his decision. 

He slowly reached with both hands toward Steve, taking it in both of his own, much like a child. He felt a chill run up his spine in excitement and watched as Peter took Steve's hand tightly, lifting it up to run across his own temple and down his cheek. 

"I'll be," the nurse murmured, crossing over to where the other two were. "He doesn't let anyone touch him, ever," he marveled. 

Steve tried to keep his smile from stretching too wide, but he knew he was glowing with pride. 

"Alright. You'll have to hold him tightly so he doesn't move at the wrong time and get hurt," the man said, brandishing the syringe. 

Steve gently tightened his fingers, holding Peter's firmly but gently, and lifted a shaky hand toward Peter's face. He very slowly leaned his forehead down to Peter's and watched carefully before making contact with his skin.

"It's okay, honey. I've got you," he whispered, surprised when Peter leaned forward on his own, resting his forehead against Steve's. The blonde took Peter's face in his hand, soothingly running his thumb across his dry skin. 

He saw from the corner of his eye the way the nurse gently peeled back Peter's hospital gown, exposing the joint of his leg and his hip, and began rubbing it with a small piece of cotton that smelled like rubbing alcohol.

Peter gasped and let out a frightened squeak at the cold feeling, flinching, and shifting in place.

"Hold him tightly," the nurse warned again. "He's a screamer."

"It's okay, it's okay, Petey!" Steve assured, pressing his face up to look at him with his thumb. "It's okay, it's going to be quick. It'll be over soon!"

Peter's face was streaked with tears already and he looked terrified.

"I know, baby, it can be scary but I promise you'll be okay, I promise." He saw the nurse uncap the syringe and finally, plunge it into Peter's hip, pressing the liquid inside of Peter's veins. 

Peter screamed, squeezing his hands tightly around where Steve held them and tried to pull away. 

"Good," the nurse stated, capping the syringe and placing it in the used sharps container that hung on the wall of the room. "Gotta check a few things on him really quick while he's getting drowsy," he announced as he made his way back to Peter's bedside. 

Steve was wiping tears from Peter's face with his thumb and the back of his hand that held Peters'. The young man still whimpered, but Steve could see his eyes getting heavy already. He leaned forward and kissed Peter's cheek gently before he could think about whether or not he should. "You're doing so well, sweetheart."

"Hold him just like that while I check his backside," the nurse announced, untying Peter's gown and letting it slip down. Peter whined and tried to pull away but Steve held him firmly, watching the man closely.

Steve watched as the man ran his thumbs up and down Peter's spine, pressing here and there and gauging Peter's reaction. The boy hissed a few times and the nurse seemed to be taking note of it. 

"Still out of place. Won't let us adjust him though." 

He checked for a few more things, though Steve couldn't guess what. Looked like maybe he was checking the alignment of his hips, or perhaps checking bruises. Peter whined loud when the doctor began to pull apart his cheeks with gloved fingers, checking his hole. 

"Why do you need to look there?" Steve asked suspiciously, not taking his eyes off the man. 

"Checking his healing. He was very torn and sore. A lot of blunt force trauma," he replied absently, doing what looked like petting at Peter's entrance. 

Peter was yelping at this point, trying to jerk his body away from the nurse's petting fingers. 

"Okay, I think that's enough," Steve asserted, wrapping his arms around Peter's shoulders and pulling him away from the brunette man carefully. Peter eagerly climbed into Steve's embrace, tucking his cold nose up into Steve's jaw. 

"We're done here anyway. He's healing well. He'll need a bath tomorrow, and if you can make it in, please bring something to try to get him to eat. Force-feeding him is rough on him."

"Has he gained any weight since he's been here?" Steve asked, tying Peter's gown back together. 

"A few pounds," the nurse answered, moving to get Peter's chart from the end of his bed. "Looks like close to seven, but he still needs more."

"Alright. I'll do my best to be here as often as possible," Steve promised, looking down into Peter's wet brown eyes as he said it. He soaked up as much touch as he could while Peter let himself be held. He couldn't believe he'd won the boy over so quickly. 

"Visiting hours are about done," the nurse informed, glancing at his watch. "I'll leave you two be for a moment to say your goodbyes. A nurse will be coming around to escort visitors out soon."

"Thanks," Steve replied, watching the man leave. "Looks like I have to go for the night," Steve told Peter sadly. The boy whined but didn't remove himself from Steve's arms. 

Peter's eyes were beginning to droop, growing increasingly more drowsy as the minutes ticked by. 

"Sleepy, honey? Why don't you let me tuck you in?" Steve suggested, rubbing Peter's back soothingly. The smaller young man whined but it didn't hold any fear in it anymore. He allowed Steve to press him back onto the bed, fluffing the pillow beneath his head as he did.

Once Steve had gotten Peter settled for the night and tucked in warmly in the thin hospital blanket, he said his goodbyes and pressed a lingering kiss to his forehead, promising to be back as soon as he could. 

He left before anyone could escort him from the property and headed in the direction of home. 

He was buzzing with happiness and excitement, and he wanted to tell someone so badly what had happened that night. 

He thought about calling Bruce, but he knew the man would be at work, and he wasn't sure that Bruce would really share in his enthusiasm the way he'd hope. He sighed and turned away from the direction of his own home, making his way to see Tony and James instead. Surely, they'd be awake, and James would be thrilled to see him. Hopefully, he'd be happy to hear of the news, too.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> That was fast. I expected it to be more painful.
> 
> All jokes aside, my schedule is nuts. I'll probably never have a set posting schedule, I'll just do my best. 
> 
> Thanks for reading, if you did!


	3. Forbidden

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "I'm going to need another beer soon. Want another shot?" Steve asked as he prepared to stand and head to the bar. "Maybe something that tastes good?" 
> 
> "Afraid tequila might make your clothes fall off?" Loki teased as he sipped his wine again. "Sure, I'll take one. Surprise me."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello again. I see that not many people are into this story, and that's okay. I'll still be posting as I write, so hopefully more people will find it interesting soon. If not...fine. More for me.

Steve pulled into Tony's driveway still grinning from ear to ear. He'd made such huge progress with Peter that night and he couldn't wait to share it with someone that would know what it was like. 

He hoped James would be able to hear about Peter without being upset. He wanted so badly to involve James in every step of Peter's journey. Soon, he'd even be able to take James to visit. 

He quickly turned off the car, yanking his keys from the ignition and stuffing them into the pocket of his uniform. He practically ran to Tony's door, holding his hand up ready to knock, but was stopped when he caught motion inside through a split in the curtains that covered the door. 

He quickly peeked inside and his face immediately turned bright red, but he couldn't take his eyes away.

James and Tony were draped over the arm of the couch together and Tony's legs were wrapped around James' trim waist. He could see the way they moved together, pushing and pulling against each other. James was leaning low over Tony, hand low on the older man's flat stomach. 

James' gray sweatpants were pulled down past his hip bones, the swell of his ass peeking out, and Tony's own black ones were caught around one ankle. His lower half was completely bared and Steve could see the tip of his red cock caught against his stomach. It looked like it happened at the last second, a moment of intimacy they hadn't prepared for.

Steve felt himself beginning to sweat, warring emotions of interest in the scene and disgust at himself for watching mixed in his stomach and made him feel nauseous.

Tony was on the receiving end this time, and Steve knew that was a change for the couple. He wondered when that had happened and why, but he'd never ask. 

The thing that kept him captivated most, though, was the love and passion he could see on both of their faces. James' bright blue eyes were filled with nothing but adoration as he looked down at Tony's face, pumping his hips fluidly. Tony's face was flushed red and his hands roamed over James' chest lovingly under his shirt.

He knew they were reaching the end of their lovemaking, because Tony's cries of pleasure grew loud enough to hear through the door and his back began to arch up off the couch, his head thrown back in pleasure. James' strokes began to grow shorter and harder. He could see how black James' hooded eyes looked, and his mouth hung open blissfully, pink tongue darting out to lick his lips.

Steve quickly turned around, taking a few steps away from the door and scrubbing his hand over his face. He felt like a creep, but at least he'd let them finish without an audience. 

He wondered dimly in his mind if he and Bruce looked quite as romantic when they made love. If a silent watcher would be able to see the amount of love they had for each other just by the looks on their faces. 

He shuddered when he heard Tony's broken cries howling through the evening, knowing that the man had set off his fireworks. He wondered if it felt as amazing for Tony to be lit from the inside, the way Steve had recently discovered that he absolutely adored. 

Steve felt ridiculous for standing outside thinking about two of his closest friends experiencing sexual pleasure together and suddenly, he felt like he should leave. 

But he still so desperately wanted to talk to Tony. He sighed and ran his hands through his hair, deciding to knock on the door after all, though he waited for a moment.

"Just a minute!" He heard Tony call, though he didn't look through the window again. He knew they were hurriedly pulling their pants back on and into place. 

A moment later, Tony pulled the door open, panting, and trying to comb his hair back into place with his fingers. "Steve!" He greeted, face still flushed pink. "Uh, hey! Crazy timing, we were, uh," he fumbled, trying to think up an excuse.

"Sexing!" James called, finishing Tony's sentence with a huge grin on his face as he came rushing around the corner from the hallway.

Tony groaned and Steve chuckled awkwardly as James came bounding toward the two men. "Really good sex!" James practically sang before he leaped at Steve with his arms wide. "Stevie!" 

"Honey!" Tony reprimanded, face bright red now, but James had already engulfed Steve in a squeezing hug. The blonde breathed in deep, taking in the familiar scent of James' favorite shampoo as he wrapped his arms tightly around the thinner man. It had been some time since they'd seen each other last.

"Stevie's here!" James squeaked, still squeezing the life out of the blonde man. 

"Baby, why don't we let him in the door?" Tony suggested, embarrassed, and not making eye contact with Steve. 

Steve kissed the side of James' neck fast and hard before he let go of the brunette, his own smile wide and mirroring James'.

"So nice to see you, Stevie!" James grinned, taking his hand and pulling him into the house. Steve definitely _didn't_ giggle as he let himself be pulled. Tony closed the door behind them. 

"I'm really sorry, Steve, I keep trying to tell him-"

"It's okay. He's just feeling good. You guys are doing better now, then I take it?" Steve asked Tony.

He watched the older man's face flush deeper red, but his mouth quirked up into a crooked grin and he rubbed at the back of his neck sheepishly.

"Yeah, we're…we talked. We're doing better." He smiled as he thought back fondly on the day they'd finally had their breakthrough. It had been hard and very emotional, but it had been so necessary and beneficial.

"Good, I'm very glad to hear that," Steve smiled and rubbed James' shaggy hair playfully. They still held each other's hands fondly. Tony had come to terms with the nature of their relationship, understanding that they loved each other deeply and affectionately, but not romantically. He was thankful for the loving relationship they shared.

"How about that boy? You seen him lately?" Tony asked, breathing finally slowing and evening out. He leaned back against the counter in the kitchen closest to the door.

"Yes! Actually, that's why I came over here tonight. I saw him! He's-well…I won't say he's good, he's definitely not, but he's getting better! He let me touch him today, let me hold him."

"That's great!" Tony smiled happily, glancing from Steve to James as he did. Probably watching for any signs of distress on James' face.

Steve glanced at James himself, taking in the way his hair was growing back, nearing the tops of his ears again. The scar at his temple was still bald but had changed from angry pink to white. Steve had told him it gave him character.

His eyes were unfocused as he gazed in the direction of the floor, smile having dropped completely.

"You okay bud? Do you want to hear about Peter?" Steve asked gently, catching his attention again. His blue eyes flicked to Steve and he pulled on a weak smile that Steve knew was fake.

"Does it bother you?" He asked. James thought for a moment before he shook his head gently.

"No, I like to hear about Peter. I miss him."

"I know. Soon I'll be able to take you to see him, he's not well enough yet though."

"Yes," James responded non-committal. "He happy?" He asked, clutching at Steve's arm and leaning against his chest.

"I'm…not sure. I don't think he's quite happy yet. He's still scared. Remember how scared you were when you came to live with Tony?"

"Yes. I was cold. And big hungry."

"Big hungry," Steve echoed, nodding his head. "Peter is still big hungry, too. He's still scared to eat." He looked up at Tony then and added, "He let me give him some candies! James' favorite. The nurse said it's the first thing he's eaten yet of his own free will."

"Wow, nice going Uncle Steve," Tony teased good-naturedly. "Seriously though, that's great. I can try to help you out as much as I can, too. If you want me to start going to try to visit him-"

"I can't ask you to do that," Steve cut Tony off politely. "You already have enough on your plate with working and taking care of this monster," he teased, poking at James' side a few times, making the younger man fall into a fit of giggles.

"And you don't?" Tony retorted. "You're a police captain, you have Bruce, you have all the goody-two-shoes things you do for charity each month…Say, how are you and old Brucie doing lately?" He asked, changing the subject.

"Uh," Steve blushed, then turned toward James. "Hey, hon, why don't you go get comfy in the living room, maybe pick a movie. I'll be out there in just a few, kay?" He urged, patting James' backside as he turned to go. Once James was out of earshot, he turned back to Tony with a sheepish grin.

"Good, really good," he smiled, stuffing his hands into his pockets.

"Is it love?" Tony teased, watching Steve grow more and more embarrassed. 

"I…I don't know. Maybe. There are a few things we'll definitely need to talk about some more…" he trailed off as he thought about their past conversations.

"Big things?"

"Yeah. He's not exactly keen on the idea of me bringing Peter home eventually. I'm not even sure if he likes me going to visit."

Tony's brow furrowed and he tilted his head questioningly. "That's not good. That's what you want, right? To have Peter indefinitely?"

"Yeah. I really don't want to compromise about it. I really want to save him, you know?"

"I know exactly," Tony agreed, looking toward James in the living room, thinking about the man he used to be. "It's strange to me that Bruce would be against that."

"He said it's…it's a "having kids" talk, and he's not ready for it. He says he doesn't want to be a step-dad."

"I suppose that's fair. It is a really big life decision. Still, to not support you at all as your partner…"

"I know. But he's…he's good to me," Steve defended. "He makes me feel special."

"Makes you come," Tony teased wickedly, watching Steve's face burn fire red.

"Well-" Steve stammered, clearing his throat awkwardly. "Yeah but, it's more…it's more than that. He makes me feel…. _different._ I've never felt this way about someone before. It's more than just the honeymoon period, you know?"

"That's a good sign," Tony nodded. "Even so, be careful. That's a huge thing that you can't really compromise about. If you compromise for him, you'll be unhappy. You'll never forgive yourself for losing Peter. If he tries to compromise in your direction, it could hurt your relationship later down the road."

"Thanks," Steve responded without a hint of sarcasm in his voice. "I'll keep it in mind."

"So he's okay, though? Has he talked at all?"

"Not yet, but I can see in his eyes that he understands me. How did you get James over that fear of speaking?"

"He just…said something one day. I probably begged him to do it again." They stood silently for a few minutes.

"What about the other one?" Tony asked, too quietly to be heard.

Steve shook his head. "Fingerprints were out of the question. The body was too far decomposed. Nothing in the system matches dental or blood."

"Poor…thing," Tony sighed. 

"Forensics came back male. It was another brunette boy. That's all we've got."

"He sure had a type, didn't he? Sick fuck," Tony grumbled. 

They didn't talk about Clint. James didn't mention him or ask after him, and they'd learned to stop bringing him up. 

"I'm sorry you had to find that boy," Tony told Steve earnestly, pushing himself off the counter and crossing the short distance from it to Steve. He pulled Steve into a hug that the blonde melted into, not realizing that he'd been dealing with that trauma alone since it happened. He wrapped his arms tightly around Tony's waist, laying his head on his shoulder. 

In the back of his mind, a voice asked why Bruce hadn't embraced him when he'd told him the news. 

"Thanks, Tony. You're a good friend."

"I know," Tony responded sarcastically. Steve breathed a laugh through his nose and swatted Tony upside his head before he pulled away from his embrace with a cleansing sigh.

"Thanks. I needed that," Steve confided. Tony nodded and cleared his throat.

"Anyway. I'm glad things are going alright for you. Better'n bad, I suppose." Tony smiled hopefully at Steve, then nodded his head toward James in the living room. "I think he's ready for you," the older man told him with a wry grin and a shake of his head.

Steve turned around and found James waiting on the couch surrounded by pillows and wrapped in a big blue comforter. His face barely peeked out from under the cushy blanket and his grin was spread across his entire face.

Steve laughed out loud, feeling his mood lightening and he sighed again, feeling exhausted but still content.

"You eat?" Tony asked as he reached to get himself a glass of water.

"I ate earlier. I'll just eat when I get home," Steve responded with a wave of his hand. Tony nodded as Steve made his way toward the couch.

A few minutes later, Steve sat on the couch with microwaved leftover pizza and the blanket across his lap, ready to watch Empire Records. He was sandwiched between James and Tony and he sprawled out comfortably over both of their laps. He felt welcome here, and he appreciated the hell out of it.

Steve wasn't able to visit Peter by the time he was done with work the next day. His head had been in a daze, drowsy from staying up late the night before, so he hadn't quite been at the top of his game.

He'd broke for lunch early, heading to the kitchen and dining area in the huge building, tiredly choosing quick items as he made his way for an empty table.

He pulled out his phone in hopes that there would be a new message from Bruce, but the last one he'd received had been their good mornings from earlier.

He decided to send Bruce a message instead of waiting, asking about his day and saying that he missed him, but before he had a chance to finish typing, someone sat down with him.

He glanced up and saw a white plate of what looked and smelled like a tuna salad sandwich, then looked up at its owner.

It was Commander Laufeyson.

Steve swallowed and set his phone down on the table.

"Sir," Steve greeted quietly.

"Captain," the raven-haired man replied. "Your performance is a little lacking today. You should have had that paperwork done by now." He cut right to the chase, not sparing Steve at all.

"Yeah, I-I'm sorry. I guess I'm just a little tired today. It won't happen again, I promise." Steve ducked his head slightly.

"I should hope it won't. I hope your new… _partner_ isn't going to start affecting your work. He is your partner?" He asked directly, cutting right to the chase.

"Uh," Steve uttered dumbly, flushing pink. "He-he is, yeah. Uh, Doctor Banner," he smiled, glancing up at Laufeyson's eyes sheepishly.

"A doctor? Very nice," The commander smiled, lips curled to one side, green eyes narrow and sharp. Steve flushed a shade darker.

"Thank you, sir."

"You need to be sure that you aren't letting him interfere with your career unless you're willing to lose it. That would be a lot of time to throw away." His face looked serious again. His nose was slightly lifted into the air and he looked down it at Steve, all white angles and clean lines. If Steve was seeing properly, he thought the green-eyed man might even be wearing a coat of mascara to make his lashes appear longer. Possibly a bit of light coral on his cheekbones to warm up his pale color.

"What do you mean?" Steve asked, beginning to feel slightly defensive.

"You can't bring him here. You can't flaunt him about. There are people here that would go after you _immediately._ " He hissed softly, keeping his face placid and haughty.

Steve sat back a bit, taking in what the commander was telling him, not sure if he should feel offended or threatened. 

"But…but, sir, all due respect, aren't _you…?_ " Steve asked finally, unable to stop the way his brow was furrowing.

The commander shifted uneasily in his chair and he shifted his eyes to look around them cautiously.

"Careful, Captain," he warned, keeping his voice low. "I am… _who I am._ But I don't bring that _here_ "

Steve felt understanding dawn on him and he realized that the commander was trying to save him from more sinister things within the precinct. Things he hadn't even known were there.

He slowly nodded, and the commander gave a short nod in return, before taking his uneaten sandwich and leaving abruptly, most likely for his own office. Steve watched him walk away, noticing a few things about the man that he hadn't before.

He walked infinitely gracefully, almost as if he were floating instead of walking, his body lithe and nimble. Steve wasn't the kind of man that thought other men were pretty, but the commander was definitely among the men that Steve would consider pretty. 

The thing that stood out the most was the look that Steve had once thought was arrogant. It was actually something closer to fear. The commander didn't watch people quietly to judge them, it was because he was protecting himself. 

Steve felt his chest constrict at the thought of needing to hide a part of who he was that he had so recently discovered. He felt sadness for Commander Laufeyson as well, wondering if he hid who he was outside of work as well.

He looked down at his phone, laid aside, and long since gone black, and he slid it into his pocket without sending his text. He'd wait until he was within the privacy of his own office.

About an hour after Steve had finished his meager lunch and gotten back to his office, he finally received a reply to the message he'd sent Bruce. 

_Hey, Blue. Good to hear from you. My day has been pretty hectic, I hope yours has been alright so far._

Steve smiled at the message, pausing his hand above the papers he was filling out. Before he could respond, another message came pinging through.

_I'm sorry I won't be able to see you tonight. It's going to be a long one. Wish I could call you. I miss your voice_

Steve felt his smile droop, but he already knew he most likely wasn't going to see the man. Still, it made him feel nice to think of Bruce missing him, and his smile crept back as he composed another message.

"I miss you too, Brucie. I can't wait to see you Thursday night."

He thought about the things he'd tell the brunette if he were there.

"I saw Peter last night. He seems to be warming up to me. I'm excited to have made a breakthrough."

He pressed send and dropped his pen on the desk with a clatter, leaning back in his chair with a sigh. He still had a hefty stack of paperwork to sift through before he was done, and it was already getting late. By the time he would finish, there would be no way to make it to the hospital with time left over to visit Peter.

_Peter._

He smiled and let his gaze wander, looking at the things in his office without actually seeing them. 

He couldn't wait to see Peter again. He hoped the way he'd connected the night before hadn't been just a fluke. He wanted to bring him things to have that would be his own. Things to help make his transition from abandoned to loved again easier.

He started when he heard a soft sound in his doorway and looked up. His face grew pink when he saw the commander once again, leaning against the frame of the door. 

His arms were crossed over his chest and he gazed at Steve silently, but when he took in the raven-haired man's face, it looked pleasant enough. The man may have even been smiling.

Steve's mouth twitched into an uneasy smile in return, but he waited to see if the man would speak first.

"Rogers," the man said in his soft voice. Steve nodded.

"Sir. Everything okay?" He shifted a bit in his seat, wondering if he'd been caught texting this time.

"Fine. Think you'll be done soon?" He asked nonchalantly, glancing down at his nails disinterestedly.

"Got a little bit still. Maybe an hour and a half," Steve answered honestly, hoping Laufeyson wouldn't be upset by his progress. Truthfully, he'd gotten it done faster than he'd thought he would.

"I have a bit more on my plate as well. Thought, maybe afterward you might want to get a glass of wine?" He tried to look bored, but Steve could tell he was hoping for a positive response.

"As coworkers?" Steve asked curiously.

"If you'd like. Maybe just as acquaintances?" He suggested in return.

Steve smiled a real smile and nodded his head. "Sounds good, sir."

"Excellent," the commander smiled back, and Steve wondered if it was the first time he'd ever seen him really smile. It was charming in a sharp, cat-like way. "Get back to work, Captain," Laufeyson teased with a wink before disappearing around the corner from view.

Steve's eyes widened at the playful gesture and his smile grew wider as he picked up his pen again.

Interesting.

His phone chimed again softly and Steve grabbed it to see Bruce's response to his news.

_That's great to hear. I hope he can make a full recovery. We have no idea what he's been through. Hopefully, he'll be able to overcome it._

Another message came quickly after.

_Have you thought about placement for him once he's recovered?_

Steve's stomach soured at the question and he put his phone down, opting to answer it later, though he knew he most likely wouldn't. He looked back to the folder in front of him and got back to work, effectively distracting himself.

When he finished for the night, he packed his things away and headed to turn in the finished stack of files at the deputy chief's office. He then took a deep breath and headed toward Laufeyson's office, wondering if he was excited or nervous. He couldn't really tell the difference if he were being honest with himself.

When he reached the open doorway, he saw that the green-eyed man was hanging up his hat on his wall and pulling on a smart black trenchcoat. It reached just below his hips and was cinched in at his trim waist.

Steve wondered when he started noticing these things. Maybe it was just that he was allowing himself to look, now that he'd begun to accept a part of himself that he'd suppressed before.

"Rogers. Ready to go?" He asked softly as he turned around and spotted Steve in the doorway.

Steve nodded and cleared his throat quickly. "All set. Want me to meet you somewhere?" He asked, struggling to find a comfortable way to hold his hands. 

"Sure thing. You know Haggerty's?" He replied, referring to an old pub-style bar down the road from the precinct.

"Yeah, they have wine there?" Steve questioned with a tilt of his head. He'd figured it was just the usual beer and whiskey type of joint.

"Not a great selection, but enough."

Steve smiled and nodded. "Okay, well uh, I guess I'll…" He trailed off as he gestured toward the front of the building vaguely.

"Alright. I'm right behind," Laufeyson assured, reaching for his bag. 

Steve nodded again, though he realized the commander hadn't heard it, then quickly made his way for the front doors. 

Okay, this was nerve-wracking. The drive to the bar was short and he knew the commander was close behind. Steve began to sweat, wondering why the man had asked him for drinks in the first place. 

He hoped he wasn't in trouble. He also hoped that he wouldn't get in trouble for being out with his superior officer either. 

_Superior officer_

That was kind of a hot title. He briefly wondered how Bruce would react if he called him superior in the bedroom. Probably get him some fantastic cock.

Steve grinned but shook the thought away. Now wasn't the time to think about that. 

What the hell did Laufeyson want to talk about? He hoped his performance hadn't been too bad lately. He knew he'd been distracted at the very least but it hadn't been detrimental.

He swallowed hard as he pulled into the parking lot of the bar and cut his engine off. He didn't have much time to compose himself as a black car pulled in beside him. The commander got out of his car and strode toward Steve's confidently.

Steve quickly stepped out of the car, fumbling with his keys and wallet and locking the door behind him. 

"Sir," he greeted nervously.

"It's after hours, you can call me Loki. Shall we head inside? It's a bit chilly out here," the man suggested. Steve smiled as he followed him toward the door. 

"Loki, huh? Never would have guessed that one. That's like Loki and Thor, right? Wait-"

"Yes," Loki replied simply, holding the door open behind himself for Steve. 

"So you two are…what like, brothers?"

"Indeed, brothers we are. Couldn't be more different, though, could we?."

"But you have different last names," Steve pointed out. 

"Different biological fathers. Our mother is the same. Thor's father raised us. Shall we sit at a booth, a table, or the bar?" Loki asked as he began to untie the belt around his coat. 

Steve cast his glance around the building. It was your typical dive bar; a worn jukebox on the wall, a pool table, a dartboard hanging up. People milled about talking and drinking together pleasantly. 

The bar was dotted with men that looked like regulars, each nursing a beer of some sort. There were a few tables here and there that lined the building and a couple of booths tucked into the back near the bathrooms for more privacy. They were dark cherry wood, but they were dingy and faded with time and use. The floor beneath Steve's feet was sticky. 

"Let's get a booth," Steve replied.

They headed for a booth near the back corner of the bar and sat down opposite each other.

"Uh, so you want some wine?" Steve asked quizzically, almost skeptically. 

"I'll get it," Loki grinned, pulling off his black uniform blazer and loosening his tie. "I suppose you'll want a beer instead?"

"Maybe a beer instead," Steve agreed sheepishly. 

"Of course. I'll open a tab," the fairer man told Steve as he lay his coat and jacket carefully on the seat at the booth. 

"I got the tab," Steve quickly told him, pulling his bank card from his wallet and sliding it across the table. 

"My treat, Captain, I insist." The man's straight white teeth glinted as he smiled, then he turned and glided away to the bar. He leaned over it as he spoke to the man behind the counter, trying to be heard over the loud music that played. Steve found his gaze straying to the swell of his backside before he realized it, but he didn't look away immediately. 

He took in the long, lean lines of the commander. His long legs, graceful arms, long thin neck. It was like seeing the man truly for the first time. 

They'd never really spoken before except at work in passing. Steve had always thought the man haughty. Now he saw Loki in a different arena. His green eyes seemed brighter, his smile freer. He'd never even seen him smile before. His hips swayed gently to the beat of the song that played in the background and Steve sat back to watch with the perfect vantage point; behind the man and slightly to the side. 

Steve didn't notice when the bartender walked away to retrieve the drinks that Loki had ordered, too busy noticing everything he could about the man. 

He didn't notice when Loki cast his emerald gaze over his shoulder and caught him staring.

He noticed when his alabaster hands snaked down his sides and reached behind him, gripping at the crease below his own ass sensually, but without drawing attention to himself.

Steve saw him lean forward more over the bar and stick his ass out and he raised his eyebrows interestedly. He licked his lips, sitting up a bit to see the gentle curve of the raven-haired man's lower back better.

Loki's hand began to stroke against the swell of his hip, slowly up and down, before finally he pointedly gripped himself tightly. His fingers then slowly shifted until only his middle finger stuck out over his ass, and Steve finally looked up.

He caught Loki's eye, a cocky smirk on his lips and he quickly turned away with a gasp, holding his hand up reflexively like a blinder.

"Fuck," he murmured, knowing he'd been caught checking out his superior.

Loki sauntered over a moment later, an empty long-stemmed wine glass and a bottle of beer in one hand and the other carrying a small bottle of wine and two shot glasses full of yellowish liquor.

"So cute the way you were objectifying me just now," he teased.

"No! I wasn't! I-I didn't mean-!"

"I'll let it slide this time," Loki winked, pushing the bottle of beer and a shot toward Steve. 

Steve shook his head, his eyes squeezed shut in embarrassment. "I am truly so sorry, sir, I don't know what came over me. I guess I just wasn't paying attention to what I was looking at," he forced out, shame keeping his gaze low. 

"You were paying attention," Loki replied softly, his own eyes narrowed thoughtfully at Steve. "Take a shot with me. And stop calling me sir."

Steve nodded, biting back his 'yes, sir', and picked up the shot glass, clinking it gently against Loki's when the man offered, then knocked it back.

Steve's face screwed up in disgust at the burning acrid taste of the liquid and he let out a little groan before quickly popping the lid off his beer and taking a swig. 

He peered through teary eyes at Loki, who smirked as he calmly poured himself a glass of wine with no reaction to the burning liquid whatsoever. 

"What the hell was that, floor cleaner?" Steve coughed, sipping his beer again. 

"Tequila. Didn't realize you'd need the lime and salt or I'd have gotten them for you." He smirked as he swirled his glass under his nose, smelling the bouquet.

"That was god awful," Steve shook his head a bit to clear the burning from his sinuses and wiped the tears from his eyes. "Let me get the shots from now on."

Loki chuckled as he sipped delicately at his wine. Maybe coming from him, it would really be considered a giggle. 

"So," Steve began once he'd gotten himself back together. "Is there any particular reason why you invited me tonight?"

"I suppose not. I guess I just wanted to be able to talk without prying ears around. I'm…happy for you."

"What do you mean?" Steve asked, sipping again at his drink. He was beginning to feel his limbs loosen under the influence of the alcohol.

"On your new…partnership? I hope I didn't scare him too much."

"He's fine. I don't see him a lot. Me being in my line of work, and him in his….we don't have a whole lot of time together."

"Must be tough."

"It's okay right now. He's really wonderful to me, but…he isn't exactly supportive of my endeavors."

"Such as?" Loki asked, sipping at his wine again. He loosened his tie more and pulled it loose, letting it drape over his shoulders. Steve watched as his nimble fingers began to unbutton the top few buttons on his crisp white shirt. 

"Well…that boy we found. From the Barton case?"

"The smaller one?" 

"Yes, the new one. I…really want to help him rehabilitate. I think I'd eventually like for him to stay with me indefinitely."

"Sounds like a lot of work. He isn't supportive of you?"

"Not particularly. I'm not sure what he has against him. We both love his brother very much. He's actually my best friend, I'd do anything for that guy "

"Now, refresh my memory, he was the first one?" 

"Yes, he was an accidental find. A friend of mine ended up taking him in and that's how we were able to take down Barton."

"He's better now? Adjusted?"

"Very much so. His speech patterns are much better. He isn't afraid of food anymore and he even has a job at a local animal shelter."

"That's wonderful news. So you're hoping to be able to get the little one to the same level?"

"Peter," Steve corrected. "Yeah, I want him to have a chance at life. A real life. I can't imagine the horrors he's seen. He's so young, too," Steve sighed before taking a big gulp of his beer. 

"Poor things. They were sex slaves, correct?" 

"Unfortunately. I wish we had more information on the one that was deceased. We don't even know his name. I don't want to ask James because I don't know how he'd handle finding out that he's dead."

"James is the first boy," Loki stated to clarify.

"Man," Steve corrected again. "Yes, he was the first. He was nothing but skin and bones when I first saw him. I took him to the fair recently. He ate almost more than I did," Steve chuckled as he reminisced and took another drink. 

"I'm going to need another beer soon. Want another shot?" Steve asked as he prepared to stand and head to the bar. "Maybe something that tastes good?" 

"Afraid tequila might make your clothes fall off?" Loki teased as he sipped his wine again. "Sure, I'll take one. Surprise me."

Steve smiled and nodded as he stood, heading for the bar himself. 

He found himself much more relaxed now than he'd been when he'd first arrived. Talking to Loki wasn't as hard as he'd thought it would be. He smiled as he thought about making new relationships with his co-workers and having more people in his life to be able to go to. 

When the bartender stopped in front of him and asked for his drink order, Steve asked for another beer and two shots of fireball. "Hell, give me two mind erasers, too," he added before the bartender left. He glanced around the bar as he waited for his drinks and smiled at the people milling about, dancing, playing darts or pool. The bartender was back quickly. 

"Thanks, pal," Steve replied with a grin as he looked at all the little glasses in front of himself. He looked up and saw that the bartender was waiting. For payment, of course, Steve realized after a moment. 

"You want me to put it on his tab?" The man asked with a nod in Loki's direction. He looked to be about forty, with gray peppered through his dark hair. 

"Nah, I got these," Steve responded, taking his card from his pocket and handing it to the man. He quickly ran Steve's card and handed it back, along with a receipt for him to sign.

As he did, the man spoke up. "Y'know, the guy's pretty dainty," he said gazing in Loki's direction.

"Okay?" Steve answered, not sure where the man was going. 

"I just mean…it probably won't take much to get him plastered. If you're looking to get laid, you should probably limit the shots and stick to drinks."

Steve's face turned beat red in a second and he cleared his throat. "Uh, thanks," he muttered, quickly turning and taking his drinks with him to the table. 

"That's a lot of shots," Loki remarked as Steve set them on the table and watched as he gave them one of each. He was refilling his wine glass. "And what is this?" He asked, picking up the brown one. 

"Not really, just two each. It's called a mind eraser. It's like, coffee liqueur."

"Sounds…alright. Cheers," he said as Steve sat down and picked up his own, clinking it against the fairer man's glass. 

They each downed their drinks and Steve watched as Loki licked his lips, then tilted the empty glass into his mouth again to catch the last few drops with a pleased hum. 

"That's quite good," he stated with a hazy smile on his lips. "Good choice."

"Thanks," Steve replied warmly, finishing the last of his first beer before cracking open another. 

They talked together for a while about Steve's relationships with James and Tony and the conversation moved to their work lives. They spoke about the dreary monotony of paperwork and who they suspected was stealing all of the pens. They drank together for about an hour, downing several beers, more shots than they could count, and finishing the first bottle of wine, ordering another after. They were both feeling pretty good, far past tipsy, and they, laughed at everything, loosening up quite a bit. 

They were sharing horror stories of being in action and Loki was telling him of the time he'd been stabbed by a crazed man on the street.

"Stabbed?!" Steve exclaimed, eyes widening. 

"Nothing life-threatening, but it hurt like a bitch," the man admitted, standing and moving his shirt to reveal the scar under his collar bone.

"Really! Look!" He insisted, standing close before Steve and pointing to the tiny scar. His steps were clumsy now and he stumbled a bit, standing close enough to be practically straddling Steve's knee. His right hand moved to rest at the top of Steve's chest by his shoulder to steady himself.

Steve peered forward but didn't see what Loki was pointing at. "Where?" He asked. 

"Here! See how it looks sort of like a crescent moon?" He leaned forward a bit more and pulled his shirt aside farther. Steve spotted the scar finally, but his gaze drifted down to Loki's dusty pink nipple, now exposed completely and right before his face. His mouth watered at the sight of it.

His head was buzzing and filled with fuzz and his lips tingled. It took everything he had to tear his gaze away from Loki's chest and look up into his eyes. 

When he did, Loki's face was so close, much closer than he'd remembered. His eyes were the color of green that only existed in fairytales, and they were hooded. His petal pink lips were shining and full and so close that Steve could smell the sweet wine on the man's breath. 

"You're so pretty," Steve whispered, not sure if he'd said it out loud or not. Loki's lips turned into a smile and his porcelain doll face twinged light pink. 

"Thanks," he whispered back, leaning forward suddenly and capturing Steve's lips in a shy kiss. 

Steve kissed back reflexively, gently placing his hands on Loki's hips. When Loki deepened the kiss, Steve tugged his tiny frame until he was comfortably straddling Steve's waist.

They kissed deeply. Steve could taste the alcohol on Loki's tongue and he distantly wondered if his own mouth tasted like beer. 

Soon his hands had slid back, cupping and squeezing Loki's ass tightly, and he guided Loki's body. He moved Loki's hips fluidly, grinding against his stomach and he quickly reached into Loki's still open shirt to tug and tease at his nipple.

Loki let out a long moan and threaded his fingers into Steve's hair, tugging and pulling. They both panted and let out quiet little moans as they began to grow more and more frenzied.

"Steve," he moaned, pulling back to lick and suck at his throat almost feverishly.

"Bruce," Steve moaned in return, pressing up against Loki's ass with his slowly hardening cock.

Loki froze and slowly leaned back to look Steve in the eyes. When Steve finally focused, his eyes flew open wide and he sucked in a sharp breath. 

"Fuck!" He exclaimed, pulling his hands back and holding them in the air. "No! I have a Bruce! I mean, I have a doctor!" He yelped, not able to think quite clearly. 

"Steve, I'm so sorry," Loki fumbled as he climbed off of Steve's lap. "I-I'm so sorry!" 

"Oh my God!"

"Steve, I-!"

"No! Oh my God, I can't believe I-" Steve cut himself off, covering his mouth with his hand as though he could wipe away the kisses he'd shared with a man that wasn't his lover. 

"Oh my God, I cheated!" His face was horrified and his eyes were beginning to well with tears. 

"No! I-it…it was just a kiss! We just kissed!" Loki cried, beginning to hyperventilate. 

"Oh God," Steve exclaimed again, pushing Loki slightly to make room to stand, before bolting for the bathroom. 

He was trembling and his breathing was heavy but he felt like he couldn't get any air into his lungs. He quickly turned on the sink and splashed cold water over his face.

"Oh my God," he sobbed quietly to himself. He slowly took his phone from his pocket, not having checked it since that evening, and saw that he had new messages. He clicked them open as if he were on autopilot and saw that they were from Bruce. His stomach soured as he realized that he'd never answered the last message he'd been sent. 

_I didn't mean to hurt your feelings, love._

_Are we still on for Thursday night?_

_I hope everything's okay, babe. Haven't heard from you in a while. I'm finally done at work and I have to get some sleep, but please, still text me when you get a minute, okay? I miss you._

Tears began to stream down Steve's face as the gravity of the situation was starting to land on him and he buried his face in his hands. 

Bruce was going to hate him. He was going to be so hurt and betrayed. How could he tell the man? How could he tell him about his infidelity? They hadn't even been together for that long yet, and he'd already shattered the man's trust. 

Why had he done that? Why had he let himself get wrapped in the physical beauty of a man that he called his superior at work? How could he do that to his sweet new lover? He owed his new life experiences and sense of self completely to the man and he'd just thrown it away. 

"Steve?" He heard softly from the door. He quickly wiped the tears from his face and turned to face the voice. Loki stood there timidly. His shirt had been buttoned again, but it was crooked. It looked like he'd tried to tuck it back in but hadn't been very successful. 

"Steve, I'm really honestly so sorry. I didn't mean for any of this to happen," he told the man, a pleading look in his eyes as he slowly stepped closer. "Steve? Please forgive me?"

"I…I can't right now," Steve replied honestly, sniffling back the last of his tears. "I haven't even been with him for two months! Not even two months and I've cheated on him!"

"No, Steven, please, you didn't cheat...I kissed _you!_ And…I shouldn't have. I don't even know why I did, I'm...I'm not even _attracted_ to you!" Loki continued to plead. 

Steve scoffed. "Great, that makes me feel a lot better," he mumbled with a roll of his eyes.

"You…you don't have to tell him. This could just be between us. Never spoken of again," Loki suggested hopefully. 

Steve thought about the idea for a moment, but he was still so drunk and exhausted. "I just can't think about this right now, I have to go home," he finally managed. He tried to walk past Loki but the man stopped him with a tiny delicate hand against his arm. 

"Let's just keep this between us for now. No one else has to know, I swear to you. If you tell him…at least give me a warning so I know he's coming for me." He looked up at Steve and his eyes seemed sad. 

"He won't come for you," Steve grumbled. They stood silently for a moment in the empty bathroom before Steve finally sighed.

"We should go home."

"I've already paid the tab, but we're both drunk, neither of us can drive," Loki pointed out. Steve knew he was right. 

"I'll just…" he didn't know what to do. "I suppose I could call Tony," he thought to himself out loud. "Do you need a ride?" 

"I'll be okay. I can probably just sleep it off in my car," Loki chuckled wryly. 

"I don't want you to do that. Let me call Tony and see if he can help."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 😱  
> Steve did a bad. Be mad at him in the comments.
> 
> Edit; good thing I'm a perfectionist who can't stop reading my own chapter weeks after posting them. I discovered a mistake that deleted a good chunk of the story and made it very confusing. Sorry to everyone that read it already. It's fixed now though!


	4. Confess Your Sins

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Got a sucker bite, there, kid. A pretty dark one, too. You fucking with that skinny guy?"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you know my writing, you know I love it dark. I'm turning up the grill in this chapter and pretty soon it'll probably get pretty wild. Be aware that I update my tags when I add a chapter, but if you feel I need to add one that I haven't, please tell me!
> 
> Now, hopefully you enjoy this chapter. I plan to get into more interesting stuff soon.

Steve had called Tony, apologizing profusely for waking him up. Tony insisted that he wasn't sleeping and that it was not a problem to pick up both Steve and his friend, but Steve was still upset. 

Steve had told the bartender they'd be back for their cars the next day. The bartender had smirked and urged Steve to use a condom. He and Loki had waited outside the bar, standing beside their respective vehicles. 

Loki asked a woman leaving the bar for a cigarette and Steve did his best not to watch him smoke it. Even after everything that had happened, he still found his eyes drawn to Loki as if he were a magnet. 

"Would you like a drag?" Loki asked, offering the cigarette to Steve once he noticed the blonde watching. At first, he scrunched up his eyebrows and turned up his nose a bit, but eventually, he accepted it and took a fast inhale, hacking and choking immediately.

"Not a smoker, I take it?" Loki tried to joke, trying to sound light-hearted.

"Why did you ask me here?" Steve asked, feeling a bit perturbed by the whole situation. 

"I just…wanted to get to know you better," Loki admitted, eyes downcast. 

"And you definitely had no intention of seducing me?" Steve demanded. Loki's eyes went wide and he quickly looked around the empty parking lot. 

"Keep it down!" Loki hissed. "I don't want people to know-"

"That you're gay? Are you in the closet, Loki?" He demanded, no less loudly. 

"I don't talk about it!" Loki growled looking defensive. "Not to you, not to my coworkers…not to my brother." He thought for a moment before he spoke again. "Do _not_ tell my brother what happened here tonight."

"I don't plan on telling anyone anything until I've figured out how to talk to Bruce about this," Steve assured. 

"Even then, you cannot tell anyone about… _me._ " Loki looked serious as he took a last long hit of his cigarette and blew a huge white cloud from his nostrils, flicking the butt. It reminded Steve of a dragon.

"You shouldn't hide who you are," Steve said firmly. 

"And what would you know of it? You, who's had the convenience of being with women for your entire life? Then some guy comes along and gives you his rod and suddenly you're out and proud? Give me a break," he scoffed.

"I may not be gay, but I accept who I am. You should consider that someday. In the meantime, maybe don't go after men who are taken," he growled the last part. 

"Steve, I didn't go after you," Loki defended, taking a step closer. "I had no intention of touching you at all. I didn't mean for it to happen, it was just…the heat of the moment. It won't happen again."

"Damn right it won't."

"How can you blame this all on me?" Loki asked suddenly, sounding hurt. "I saw the way you were looking at me. I saw the way you watched every move I made." He trailed off for a moment and they both stayed silent, Steve having nothing to defend. Loki was right. 

"Did you mean what you said?" Loki asked softly, catching Steve off guard. 

"What?" Steve asked, still not able to think quite clearly. 

"When you said…you said I'm... _pretty_ ," Loki reminded the man, gazing away at the ground with pink cheeks. 

Steve flushed in return, turning his head away as well.

"I…"

"Did you hate it?" Loki pressed in his soft voice. 

"Loki, we can't do this. You know it's not right. Why bother asking all the what-ifs?” Steve answered quietly. "You're not even out. I don't see how it matters."

Tony had pulled up a moment later, ending any more conversation they might have had. Steve crossed the parking lot quickly to greet him, apologizing before he could even step foot out of the vehicle. 

"I'm so sorry Tony, I hate to ask this of you-"

"I'm already here, Steve, relax. You guys ready to go? I don't want to leave James for too long."

"He's at home?" Steve asked, peering into the vehicle quickly. 

"He was already asleep. I should be home before he wakes up. You ready?" Tony asked again, glancing across the parking lot at where Loki still stood awkwardly. "You coming?" He called pleasantly. 

"Yes, thank you, sir," Loki replied, quickly crossing after Steve. 

"Well let's get going," Tony sighed, opening the back door for the dark-haired man. Once Loki had slid into the back seat, Tony turned and gripped Steve by the arm before he could get into the car. 

"We need to talk," he murmured into Steve's ear, not loud enough for the other man to hear. "We'll chat once we've dropped him off."

Steve felt a chill run up his spine and he turned to take in Tony's serious look, but he just nodded before getting into the front seat. 

The ride was silent, save for the quiet music playing on Tony's stereo. 

_…I'm here feeling lower than the sterling  
How'd you look so good?  
Groundhog evening, dancing on the ceiling  
Kubrick's Hollywood_

_Do you remember what you said to me?  
'Cause we lost track of time  
Yeah, we lost track of time_

Steve felt guilt churn in his gut as he listened to the words of the song playing until finally, he switched the station over. 

_…I have loved you for many years  
Maybe I am just not enough  
You've made me realize my deepest fear  
By lying and tearing us up…_

"God," Steve groaned, turning and leaning his head against the window.

"Just a left, here," Loki told Tony quietly.

Tony pulled up to a modest light gray house and put his car in park, unbuckling his seatbelt and opening his door.

"Where're you going?" Steve asked Tony curiously, though his head swayed and his eyes squinted with exhaustion and alcohol.

"Making sure your friend gets inside safely," Tony responded matter-of-factly

"Well, I can-"

"Stay. You're both drunk, how are you going to help him?" Tony asked. 

Steve didn't have a response, knowing his limbs felt like concrete and his tongue felt like a swollen cotton ball and he leaned his head against the cool glass of the window. 

"Right. I'll be back."

He quickly crossed to Loki's side of the car and opened the door for the man, assisting him in exiting the vehicle.

"Thank you very much for the ride, sir, but I can take it from here," Loki assured, though he still clung to Tony's offered hand as he attempted to take a step. 

"Mmhmm," Tony hummed, continuing to walk him toward his home. 

Steve watched as Tony helped Loki hold his keys steady to unlock his front door and help him carry his bag inside. A few moments passed before Tony returned, closing the door behind him. 

"I got him to bed," Tony informed Steve as he got back into the car. "Made sure his shoes were off and that he had water and ibuprofen on his nightstand. I didn't mess with his pants though."

Steve nodded and watched as Tony turned the keys in the ignition once again, pulling away from Loki's home. 

Steve swallowed and wondered when Tony would begin talking, and what about. His eyebrows furrowed as he realized that Tony was pulling into an empty parking lot attached to a bank long since closed for the night. 

"What did you do?" Tony demanded as he put the car back into park. Steve's eyes went wide and he wasn't sure what to say.

"I…"

"You look guilty, Rogers. You have absolutely no poker face, and you're guilty of something."

Steve turned away, his heart beginning to hammer away in his chest. He didn't think he'd have to talk about it so soon. 

"Steve, I'm gonna be nice here and just let you in on a little something."

Steve turned slowly with wide eyes to look at Tony. 

"I know this is your first relationship with a man and I know you don't know how everything works quite yet but I assure you, cheating is never okay."

Steve's mouth dropped and tears sprang to his eyes again. 

"I didn't-!”

"You did something," Tony informed Steve, gripping his chin tightly. Steve gasped and watched as Tony pulled down the visor in front of Steve so he could see in the mirror. He then turned Steve's head forcefully so that he was looking at himself. 

"Got a sucker bite, there, kid. A pretty dark one, too. You fucking with that skinny guy?" 

Steve's lungs froze as he got a good look at the bruise on his neck, his hand quickly flying up to cover it. 

"Oh, fuck," he breathed, tears beginning to slip down his cheeks. 

"Yeah, oh fuck is right. How could you do that? To Bruce?" He demanded of Steve, face looking stern and angry. 

"I-I didn't! I didn't mean to! It was just…the heat of the moment!" Steve parroted the words Loki had said. 

"How far did it go?" Tony demanded to know. 

"Just kissing! He kissed me and then…well, he was in my lap and it was getting… _squirmy_ but, there were no fireworks! I didn't touch him inappropriately, I swear. I mean, I grabbed his ass, but... It was nothing! It's never going to happen again!" Steve assured, hoping Tony wouldn't hate him too. 

"Has this happened before?" Tony asked, holding his stern expression. 

"Never! I would never hurt Bruce on purpose, please, you have to believe me!"

"You kissed your boss," Tony stated, making Steve feel worse.

"I know! I know and I don't know how I'm going to tell Bruce!" Steve wailed, dropping his face into his hands.

"You _have_ to tell him," Tony stated in a no-nonsense way. 

"I know, I will! I just…"

"No buts. He deserves to know what happened. If he stays or goes needs to be his choice, unless you've decided not to be with him."

"I haven't!" Steve cried, his warm buzz making it harder to control his emotions.

After a few moments, Tony finally took pity on Steve, sobbing in the passenger seat and he rubbed his back soothingly. 

"It's okay to make mistakes, but you need to learn from them. Let's get you home and in bed, you're going to be exhausted tomorrow morning."

Tony had taken Steve home, walking him inside and getting him into bed. He pulled open the fly on his uniform pants and slid them off, folding them and placing them on the nightstand. Steve barely had it in him to stay awake, but he saw Tony retrieve a glass of water and a bottle of ibuprofen, the same as he'd said he'd done for Loki and left them on his nightstand. The last thing Steve remembered was Tony gripping his face gently but firmly and placing a hard kiss against his lips with a "goodnight, idiot," before he drifted off into sleep.

When he woke up, he had a splitting headache and was eternally grateful for Tony leaving him with what he needed. He'd only gotten about four and a half hours of sleep before his alarm went off, and he wondered if he still might be drunk as he ambled around trying to prepare for another day at work. 

He brushed his teeth twice, trying to rid his mouth of the taste of soured alcohol from his tongue and the feel of Loki's silky lips on his own. His chest was constricted with anxiety at the thought of seeing Bruce that night. They were supposed to meet for dinner, and Steve wanted to see him badly, despite everything. 

He realized that he still had never replied to Bruce's message and he groaned at what the man might think. He decided to send at least a short message on his walk to work. 

He grabbed a banana from his kitchen counter before he left, being sure he had his bag, cell, and his uniform jacket before leaving. 

He groaned as he walked, his feet already aching and his head still pounding. The sun wasn't even up yet. The air was crisp bordering on cool and the birds were still asleep.

He quickly pulled out his phone, wondering if Bruce was awake yet, and sent a message. 

"Hey, honey. I'm so sorry I didn't get a chance to message you back yesterday. It was a long day at work and I ended up going out for a few drinks. I can't wait to see you tonight, though. I hope we're still on?"

It took about forty minutes for Steve to arrive at work, but he was still a few minutes early when he entered the building. He was glad, he wanted a little time to clean up in the bathroom after his long, sweaty walk. 

He was in a daze for most of the day, thankful that he didn't have to leave the building at all. His head swam in guilt for pretty much all of it. He wanted to see Peter and regretted not being able to see him the night before, and he knew he wouldn't be able to see him that night either since he was going on a date with Bruce. He decided to go shopping for the poor boy as soon as he could, hoping to spoil him and make up for not seeing him. 

He also was being eaten alive by the fact that he'd have to tell Bruce somehow, but how do you work infidelity into a conversation at dinner? These mashed potatoes are great, by the way, I cheated?

Steve groaned out loud.

To make matters worse, he hadn't really seen Loki at all that day. He wasn't really sure if that was good or bad, but he'd been hoping to speak to the man sober before he had to break the news to Bruce. 

He caught a glimpse of Loki's shiny black hair at one point during the day, but he'd hurried into his office, closing the door behind him before Steve could even call out his name. 

He jumped when his phone pinged, not having heard it all day, and he quickly grabbed for it, hoping it was Bruce. 

_Doll, why didn't you tell me you were going out to drink? Is everything okay? I was really worried about you. Were you alone? How did you get home?_

Steve felt his lungs restrict once again as he carefully composed a message back.

"I was with a co-worker. It was a last-minute decision, nothing I had planned. Tony was able to take us both home. I owe him dinner or something."

It wasn't long before another message came in. 

_I'm glad to hear you got home okay. I'll have to send Tony a gift basket as thanks for keeping you safe for me. I'm really excited to see you tonight. I've had a rough few days at work and I could use a little stress relief._

Steve could hear the implications of the text and he began to sweat, impulsively covering the bruise on his neck with his hand. He wasn't so sure Bruce would be happy to see him once he noticed it. 

The rest of Steve's day seemed to fly by, at the same time he felt like he was drowning in rubbery goo. Before he knew it, it was time to leave for the evening. He thanked his lucky stars that he didn't have to work the next day. No matter what happened, he needed a day to recover and sleep. He was running on just about nothing. 

He sighed as he pulled his bag over his shoulder, draping his jacket over his bag, and set out the front doors to retrieve his vehicle from the parking lot of the bar. 

"Hey," he heard in a deep voice from behind him over the rumbling of a loud engine approaching from behind. He turned to look.

"Need a ride?" It was Thor. He hung out the window of his truck, motioning for Steve to get in. "I'm already taking my brother."

Steve sighed and considered his options. Really, he was too exhausted to walk all the way to the bar, drive home, and still have time to shower and dress before Bruce arrived for their date. He nodded slowly and threw a soft thanks in Thor's direction. 

Thor was actually a close friend of Steve's. They were typically partnered in the field, and every big bust Steve had been a part of had been by Thor's side. He wasn't sure why the man had never mentioned having a brother before. 

"You'll have to hop in the back, the front seat's full," Thor informed, getting out to pull open the rear door for Steve. As soon as he did, Steve was eye to eye with a guilty-looking Loki, who sat in the back on the opposite side.

"Hop in, I'll have you there in a jiff."

Steve climbed into the back, sitting on the small bench seat as far away from Loki as he could, and neither of them made eye contact. Really, it wasn't that far away. Both of them had long legs, and with the front seat taken up by tools and parts of Thor's projects, they were inches from being knee to knee, which Steve repeatedly noticed.

"So, you guys went drinking last night, why wasn't I invited?" Thor joked from the front seat, trying to lighten the silence. 

"I told you, it wasn't a plan, we just went," Loki informed before Steve had a chance to reply. Steve glanced in Loki's direction, taking in the man's shadowy eyes and paler than usual completion. He must have been exhausted too. 

"Did Brucie meet up with you?" Thor asked suddenly, peering into the rearview mirror at Steve. 

"No, it was just us. Bruce worked late," Steve responded. 

"Ah. It's just that you've got a hickey. Thought maybe you scored last night," Thor winked at Steve with a big grin before looking back to the road. Steve saw Loki turn red from the corner of his eye and knew that his face probably matched, but nobody said anything else. 

When Thor pulled into the parking lot, he paused before moving to let either of them out of the truck, taking in the exhausted state of both of them. 

"Invite me next time, guys. I like drinking too," he joked again. "Maybe not on a work night, though? You both look like you got put in the wash and stored away wet."

Finally, he got out of the truck, opening the back door for them both to slide out. Steve jumped down first and politely held his hand out to assist Loki down. He blushed as he took the smaller man's cold, dainty hand and helped him down after him.

"Thanks, Rogers," Loki replied quietly, not meeting Steve's blue eyes. So they were on a last name basis again. Steve wondered if that was for the benefit of Thor.

"Of course," he mumbled in reply, reaching into his bag for his keys. "Thanks for the lift, Thor," he added, looking at the taller man. "I wouldn't have been able to walk all this way and still make it home on time."

"Not a problem. As I said, call me next time. We haven't been out in a while." He clapped Steve on the shoulder as he said it, then turned and closed the back door of the truck, climbing into the driver's seat. 

"Good luck with your date tonight," he called out the window before driving away.

Steve nodded and felt guilt churning in his stomach again, then he slowly turned around and saw that Loki was standing close by, holding his keys in his hand.

He paused and awkwardly nodded to the man before taking a step around him toward his own vehicle.

"I'm…" Loki began, pausing before he finished his sentence and catching Steve's attention. He turned to look in Loki's direction.

"I'm truly sorry for what happened," he finally finished. "I didn't mean for-"

Yeah, well…" Steve interrupted, not wanting to relive the moment again. "I'm seeing him tonight. I'm going to try to find a way to tell him."

"Tonight," Loki repeated, though it was more confirmation.

"Yeah, hopefully at dinner."

"Alright. Thanks for letting me know. Is there a way you could… keep my name out of it?"

"I can try, but he'll probably want to know who it was."

"You could just say it was a co-worker," Loki pointed out, taking a step toward the blonde.

"What are you so scared of, Loki? Why won't you come out?" Steve asked softly. 

"I'm allowed to come out when I'm ready, and not a minute before," Loki replied firmly. It was the first time Steve had heard him willingly admit anything about himself, although not directly.

"Don't you want a partner? How do you expect someone to be with you if you'd rather keep them a secret?" Steve asked beginning to feel a bit sorry for the man. 

Loki's mouth dropped open in surprise at Steve's question, and it seemed like for a moment, he didn't have an answer. He quickly pulled himself together though and cleared his throat quietly.

"I don't do relationships. They're too messy," he responded softly. "They hurt too much."

"They don't have to, Loki. You deserve love, too, you know."

"Because I'm so pretty?" Loki joked, though his cheeks pinked again. His head was turned away but his emerald eyes glanced at Steve hopefully. "There's more to life than just being in a relationship, too, Steve."

"But it's so much nicer with someone else. Someone to support you," Steve pressed gently. 

"Support me?" Loki scoffed. "Bruce doesn't support _you_ at all. He just wants you naked with your legs spread wide, Steve. He doesn't support what you want."

Steve's face grew angry and he gritted his teeth, clenching his hands tightly. He took a big step forward and, though he was just a few inches shorter than the thin man, he stood tall over Loki, puffing his chest slightly.

"You don't know him at all," he growled. "He isn't like that. He cares about me."

Loki put his hands up in a move that resembled surrender and took a small step back. "I didn't mean to offend you. But Steve, just pay attention to the signs. I've met the guy for all of twenty seconds and I saw red flags."

"What do you even care?" Steve snapped, turning toward his own vehicle finally. 

"Why do you care about me?" Loki asked in return. "You don't even know me. All you see is what I look like."

Steve paused with his hand on the handle of his car door, then finally opened it, getting into the driver's seat. "Have a good day, Loki," he said with finality before closing his door and turning the key in the ignition.

Once he got home, he did his best not to think about everything that was boiling in his guts; fear, anxiety, guilt, nervousness, excitement. It all bubbled inside him, threatening to make him throw up at any point.

He showered quickly, but not so quick that he couldn't enjoy the hot water on his tense muscles. He was so tired. In any other situation, he'd probably have asked Bruce to just come over instead of getting dressed and going out. He didn't want to cancel plans though, not with everything that was going on in his life. He had to step up and tell the truth.

Honestly, he wasn't even sure of what Bruce would think. Would he be as upset at Steve as he was at himself? Would he not think kissing was that bad? Steve knew that it was relative to the person, but the fact that they'd never talked about being exclusive and what that meant to each of them was haunting him. 

Steve was the kind of person that gave all or nothing. He wasn't so sure about Bruce, and he hated to say that Loki may have been right as far as that part of his relationship. He didn't know what red flags the raven-haired man had been talking about, but he didn't want to put in the effort to think about it right then.

He quickly dried off after exiting the shower and headed to his worn wardrobe, deciding what he should wear that evening. He only had about an hour before Bruce would be there. He glanced at himself in the small mirror that hung from the door of his wardrobe and the bruise at his throat stood out painfully. 

It was dark, but not too big, just above his collar bone. He could feel the ghost of Loki's lips and teeth on the spot and he quickly covered it with his hands before he got lost in those thoughts.

Why had he been so eager to kiss Loki in the first place? He was clearly attractive, but he didn't even know the man. He sighed and shook his head, reaching into his wardrobe to pull out a lightweight long-necked sweater. The light cornflower blue complimented his eyes. He then reached for a pair of gray denim and a pair of clean underwear before he closed the doors and turned toward his bed. He didn't typically wear these pants, they were tighter than the ones he preferred, but he knew they'd look good with the sweater.

He dressed quickly and headed back to the bathroom to brush his teeth and comb his hair, glancing at where he knew the hickey was hidden by the neck of his sweater. He felt a bit of relief that Bruce wouldn't see it right away. He glanced at his watch after hanging his damp towel in its designated place and sighed again. 

It was almost time. Bruce would be there soon. He could feel his heart begin beating faster and his limbs were shaking a bit. He wondered if he should send a text to Bruce to be sure that he was coming, but he didn't want to bother the man, especially if he was driving.

Instead, he headed for the kitchen, pouring himself a glass of water from the jug in his refrigerator, then slowly refilled the tank before putting it back where it belonged. 

He sipped the cold water slowly, focusing on calming his nerves, and by the time he'd finished, he heard a gentle knock on the door. 

"Coming!" He shouted as he placed his glass in the sink and headed for the door. 

"Hey!" Bruce held a bouquet of colorful flowers in his hand and he stepped inside quickly. "Honey!" He greeted again, taking Steve's face in both hands and kissing him firmly on the mouth. Steve started in surprise but quickly smiled and kissed the man back. 

Bruce deepened the kiss almost immediately, pressing his body flush against Steve's and little broken moans were falling from his lips.

"Oh, honey," he murmured between kisses. "I missed you. I was so worried about you last night, why didn't you text me?" 

Steve felt his heart thump in his chest, but he swallowed down his nerves and fought to break the kiss to answer the man. 

"Bruce," he chuckled, doing his best to pull back for air. "I'm sorry about last night. Time must have gotten away from me," he finally managed. 

"I'm just glad you're okay," Bruce said as he kissed along Steve's jaw, still holding his face firmly. "I was worried about you."

Finally, the man pulled back, taking in Steve for the first time since he'd come through the door. 

"What are you wearing? Is that what you're wearing out?" His face looked amused, but not in a pleasant way. "You look geriatric."

Steve felt his heart drop into his stomach as he looked down at himself. "I…I thought this sweater looked nice," he replied quietly, turning away a bit with embarrassment. 

"Yeah, if you're seventy and going out for oatmeal," Bruce snorted. "Too late anyway, we'll be late for our reservation if we don't go now. You'll just have to wear that. Oh! These are for you," he added, thrusting the flowers toward Steve. 

The blonde smiled, the sight of the flowers making him nearly forget what Bruce had said about the way he looked. 

"They're beautiful, thank-"

"We don't have time to find a vase now, let's get going, okay?" Bruce all but commanded, laying the flowers on the counter rather than handing them directly to Steve. 

"O-okay. Let me grab my-"

"Honey," Bruce practically chastised, gripping Steve's hand. "We don't have time, you'll be fine."

He tugged Steve out the door, barely giving him a chance to grab his wallet from the kitchen counter and lock the door behind him, and quickly opened the passenger side door to let him in. 

"Thanks, Brucie," Steve smiled, cheeks glowing pink. He'd never had someone open the door for him. Who said chivalry is dead? 

"Of course, love," Bruce replied as he quickly got into the driver's side. "Were going to have to hurry to make our reservation, it's all the way across town," he stated, speeding out of Steve's driveway faster than he probably should have. 

"Honey, slow down or I'll have to give you a ticket," Steve tried to joke, though he was only half kidding. 

"I'm not driving that fast, relax," Bruce smirked, reaching over to grip Steve's leg possessively. "I'm really glad to see you tonight, it's been too long."

"It has," Steve agreed, though his guilt was creeping up on him again. "I…I missed you," he added softly. "How was the last couple of days for you?" He asked, trying to ignore his unease at Bruce's speeding.

"Busy. Rough. Can't wait to unwind tonight," he winked in Steve's direction, squeezing his inner thigh suggestively. 

Steve forced out a laugh, but his stomach turned inside him. 

"Can't wait to peel that ugly sweater off you," Bruce added under his breath with a chuckle of his own. 

Steve kept quiet, hyper-aware of his words and actions. 

When they reached the restaurant, Bruce turned off the engine and quickly crossed to Steve's side of the car, tutting at the man when he tried to open his own door. 

"Let me be a gentleman, Steve," he chided as he held his hand out to assist Steve out. 

"You don't have to do that, Bruce," he stated, though he held tightly to Bruce's hand. 

"Well, I like to. I'm your boyfriend, I want people to know who you belong to."

Steve bristled at Bruce's choice of words, but he smiled and stayed quiet, happy that the man wanted to show him off. He shoved away thoughts of Loki and his secrecy and the fact that he'd probably never let someone do that for him. 

Bruce lead them through the front doors and up to the podium where the greeter stood, offering his name for the reservation. 

"Dr. Banner," he stated, glancing at the upside-down reservation book from where he stood. 

"Right on time, sir. This way," the young woman smiled, taking two menus with her and leading them toward the middle of the restaurant. 

She stopped at a round table, somewhat near the back, and laid the menus down, gesturing for them to sit. 

"I reserved a table in the back," Bruce informed her looking less than pleased and not moving to sit. 

"I'm sorry, doctor, they're all filled. This is the closest that we have available."

"Why bother making a reservation if you won't honor it?" He asked loudly, catching a few of the other patrons' attention. 

"Bruce, it's okay," Steve whispered, embarrassed by the way Bruce was acting. "This table is fine." He glanced at the white linen table cloth and the romantic candles that had been lit and placed his hand on Bruce's arm. "It's nice."

Bruce grumbled, but took off his black jacket and draped it over the back of the chair. 

"Sir," the young woman said to Steve, pulling the chair out to seat him politely. 

"I can handle that, thank you," Bruce almost growled, moving to take the chair from her hands. 

"My apologies," she stated, unphased by Bruce's coldness. "Can I get you gentleman a drink?"

"Red wine," Bruce immediately replied without looking at the woman. 

"Uh, water too, please," Steve asked politely in a soft voice. 

Bruce slid Steve's chair in once he'd sat down, then crossed over to his side of the table and took his own seat. The table was big enough that each man had room but not so big that they couldn't hold hands as they sat, so Steve placed his hand on the table palm up in invitation. 

"A waiter will be back with your drinks and to take your orders," the woman informed them before leaving for the kitchen. 

Bruce's lips turned up into a smile and he reached forward to pet at Steve's palm with his fingertips, lightly tracing lines and patterns there. Steve smiled and held back his chuckles at the way it tickled. 

"So, water, huh? Had enough to drink last night?" Bruce teased lightly. 

"Yeah," Steve sighed, trying not to think about it. "Way too much. I won't be drinking again for a while."

Bruce hummed and glanced around him. "I suppose it's not a bad spot. Just not what I asked for." He grumbled a bit but eventually turned his attention back to Steve. "So, who did you go out with?" 

Steve's heart stumbled in his chest and he swallowed hard. "Uh, just one of my superior officers."

"Just one? I thought it was a work thing."

"Uh, n-no. He invited me for drinks, so…" Steve trailed off, hoping his face didn't look as guilty as he thought it did. 

"He good looking?" Bruce teased. Steve felt his face drain of color and his eyes shot up to Bruce, wide and surprised, but he saw that Bruce's face looked joking and he forced out a laugh as he looked away. 

"Anything else new?" Bruce asked, leaning back in his chair. "What about Peter? Tell me about what happened with him?"

Steve felt his smile grow big and genuine as he turned his thoughts to the bony boy in the hospital. 

"It was amazing, Bruce. I got him to eat some candies, you know those ones that James loves? The nurse told me it was the first he'd eaten on his own. And then, he let me hold him."

"Hold him?" Bruce repeated, clearly asking for clarification. 

"Like, when the nurse was checking him out and giving him his sedative. He let me comfort him. He never lets anyone touch him," Steve replied proudly.

"That's...very good. You know, Steve, I really don't have anything against him. I just don't know that it's a good idea to bring him home just yet."

"I-I know. I mean, he's still pretty weak. And he's so thin. He's getting a chance that James never got, and I could never take that from him. I'm sure he's getting great care, physically, at the hospital. I just want to be there for him emotionally. He needs someone to care about him."

Bruce smiled as he listened to Steve, but it was lined with something that looked almost dark.

"You are so sweet, Steven. You have such a big heart, sometimes it astounds me." His face looked warm as he gazed at Steve, his eyes soft. 

"Well…" Steve said feeling awkward but pleased. "I make mistakes, too," he replied carefully.

"We all do," Bruce replied softly with a gentle smile. He looked up as the waiter made his way to the table with a small tray carrying a glass bottle of wine and a pitcher full of ice water, as well as two different glasses.

"Sirs," he announced as he set the drinks on the table, placing the glasses down as well. "Do you need another minute to decide?" He popped the cork on the wine expertly, then quickly poured water into the round glass. The man was young, hair that wasn't light but not quite dark either. His eyes were dark and brown, lined with full lashes. When he smiled, a deep dimple sunk into his left cheek. He looked barely twenty years old.

Steve realized he hadn't even glanced at one of the menus that still lay on the table cloth and he quickly looked to Bruce with uncertainty.

Bruce's lips hung lopsided on his face as he very poorly hid his roaming eyes, casting up and down the young man slowly.

After a short moment, he cleared his throat quietly and tilted his head, glancing at the menus himself.

"We're going to need another moment, honey. Come back for us," he finished with a smile and a glance at Steve.

Steve quickly swallowed and pulled on a smile. He wasn't sure exactly what he felt in his chest, but he had no right to be jealous after the news he had to give Bruce. He decided not to dwell on it. Bruce was allowed to look.

"So what are you thinking, Blue?" Bruce asked, holding up the menu and opening it, badly concealing how he watched the young man walk away.

"Uh, I was thinking maybe a salad with chicken. You have any recommendations?" Steve asked, opening his own menu and taking a sip of his water.

"Salad? Get something real," Bruce teased, though it didn't sound totally lighthearted. "You should try the steak."

"Eh, I kinda want to keep it light tonight," Steve admitted. He didn't say it was because his stomach was rolling in guilt and dread.

Bruce hummed and clucked his tongue, sounding almost like a disappointed father.

"Drink that much last night, huh?" Bruce mused as he set down the menu and reached to pour some of the wine into his wine glass.

Steve groaned internally as he watched the scarlet liquid fill the glass and was immediately reminded of the way Loki had held his glass the night prior; his fingertips curled around the flute and his pinky resting delicately against the thin stem. His arms had been crossed and he held his glass cradled gently against his chest. Once he'd done that, he'd laughed a lot more.

"Want some?" Bruce asked, offering the bottle toward Steve once he noticed him staring.

"Oh, n-no," Steve stammered, realizing he'd been caught daydreaming.

"Uh, so tell me about you?" Steve inquired, smile shaky as he tried to change the subject.

"Oh, you know. Long days. It's equal parts caring and boredom, I'd say. A lot of sleepless nights. You never really feel awake." 

The brunette trailed off as he spoke, looking extremely tired in the moment. Steve felt sorry for him. He was exhausted too, but he still felt like Bruce had it worse.

Bruce suddenly snapped to attention, looking back at Steve with a tilt of his head. 

"You should let me order for you." It wasn't a question.

"What do you mean?" Steve asked, clearly confused by the idea.

"Just let me order. Let me take care of you."

"Uh-"

Steve didn't have any time to reply. The young waiter was back and ready for them. 

"All set, gentleman?" He asked pleasantly, holding up a small pad of paper and a pen poised to write.

"Yes, thank you. I'd like the Chilean seabass. Lemon, please. And my handsome companion will have the chicken and sauteed mushrooms." He smiled pleasantly at the waiter as the young man wrote down the order.

"Right away," the young man smiled as he hurried away to the kitchen again. 

Discordant emotions coursed through Steve. He was a little taken aback by Bruce's actions. No one had ever tried to order for him, and for that matter, he'd never tried to order for anyone else either. 

"Uh, b-but Bruce, I…I wanted a salad," Steve finally spoke softly. He didn't want to upset the man, but he didn't know how to react either.

"You'll like it. And I still went for chicken, so…compromise," He smiled, taking his wine glass. He held it with the stem between his middle and ring finger, cradled in his palm. "I just thought you'd like it better."

"Thanks," Steve finally replied, and he _was_ feeling a bit better about it. Bruce just wanted to be a good partner, and he was being selfish. 

"Why companion?" He followed up, just as soft. "You can…call me your… _boyfriend._ " He looked down at his fidgeting hands on the table in front of him as he said it and his face burned crimson red.

"Personally, I find the term a little juvenile. I prefer partner or companion," Bruce replied with a little shrug of his shoulders.

"Oh." Steve didn't know what to say for a moment. "I...I kinda like it, though. It's, it's cute, you know? Kinda sweet. And I've never had a boyfriend before so…it's almost, like, thrilling. You know?" 

"I can understand that, and that's honestly very sweet. But I'd still prefer that you didn't call me that."

Steve floundered for a moment, mouth hanging in surprise as he failed to think of any response. Finally, he forced out a fake, nervous chuckle, and jerkily nodded his head. "O-okay. I w-I won't call you that." 

"Thanks, baby."

Steve nodded, but he was lost in his own thoughts. This felt confusing. He cared a lot about Bruce, and he hated that he had to hurt him later with his news, but something was feeling off about the way he was acting tonight. He didn't seem like his usual sweet self. He knew he didn't _know_ Bruce that well yet, but he'd never seen this side of him before.

"Are you tired?" Steve asked, keeping his voice pleasant and neutral.

Bruce paused to think about the question and cocked his head. 

Bruce was good looking. He had a sweet, handsome face, chocolatey eyes that exuded warmth. His grin was shallow and shy and his teeth peeked out sharply between his full lips.

He had a body to die for, not as narrow at the waist as Steve was, but slim and toned. His belly had just a tiny bit of fat, soft in all the best ways. His shoulders were broad and perfect to lay your head on, and Steve loved to. He was just a few inches shorter than Steve, but the way he carried himself with confidence, puffed out, and stood tall, he often seemed to tower over Steve. His black hair was curly, even tighter curls than Peter had, and Steve loved to run his fingers through the soft coils.

"I suppose I'm always a little tired, honey. I don't get to sleep regularly the way you do."

Steve held back his remarks about how little he slept too.

"Honestly, I just can't stop thinking about you," he murmured softly, his sharp teeth exposed as his grin grew nearly predatorial.

Steve felt his face flush again and he smiled bashfully. "What about me?" He lead, leaning forward to hear Bruce. 

"Just how long it's been since I made love to you. I can't wait to be back at your place peeling those ugly clothes off you and climbing inside you for the night," he grinned wickedly. He licked his lips and Steve couldn't be sure if it was conscious or not.

"Oh, Bruce!" Steve gasped as he quickly sat back again, wide eyes scanning the people around them to be sure no one else heard. "I-I-I-!" He stammered, unable to formulate any thoughts at all.

He watched Bruce's face take on an annoyed edge and he turned his attention to his glass of wine, swirling it before lifting it to his lips. "Try not to look so upset about it, Steven, Jesus," he murmured bitterly, taking a sip just as the young waiter returned once again with steaming plates on a tray. 

"Your seabass, sir," he smiled as he set Bruce's plate before him. "And for you, sir," he continued, taking Steve's plate from the tray. "Chicken and mushrooms in white wine sauce." He stood and smiled at both of the men looking ridiculously pleased with himself. Steve wondered if this was his first job. 

"Thank you very much, honey," Bruce smiled pleasantly up at the young man. Steve tried not to let his annoyance at being called the same pet name only minutes prior show on his face. 

Steve watched Bruce stiffly, wondering how much he intended to flirt with other men that night. 

He watched the younger man turn to leave with a short bow of some sort and barely contained his shock when Bruce reached out and grabbed his wrist, pulling him to a stop.

"Wait, uh, before you go," Bruce started slow, and Steve thought it sounded like he was thinking up an excuse as he went. "Uh, some more lemon, please?" He asked, grinning broadly at the man's red face. He quickly nodded and Bruce finally let go of his wrist, watching as he hurried away. 

Steve glanced at Bruce's plate and furrowed his brows when he saw the large piece of fish already practically covered in delicate thin slices of the yellow citrus. 

When Bruce finally turned back, his smile still broad on his face, he saw the way Steve was looking at him and chuckled, reaching for his fork. 

"Don't be jealous, baby. He's submissive and eager to please, and Sir likes to play."

"How…how the hell do you know that he's submissive?" Steve asked, trying not to yell and draw attention, brow furrowing farther. 

"Good guess, Blue. I'm very good at spotting twinky little submissive boys. It's my superpower," he winked, taking a bite of his meal. 

"Is…is that what I am to you?" He finally asked, afraid to hear the answer. 

"Of course not. You're not all that twinky. Maybe once but not anymore." He took another bite and looked almost disinterested in the conversation. 

"So, what, I'm just an easy, _submissive_ lay?" Steve practically whispered, tears burning in his eyes as he waited for an answer. 

"Honey, what's gotten into you?" Bruce asked, looking confused. "I didn't do anything wrong."

"Not yet! But I can see the way you're looking at him! And what happens when you drink too much and suddenly he's in your lap and you don't know what to do when he kisses you, so you just kiss him back with your hands all over his ass? What happens then?" Steve spilled, realizing he might have been too obvious as the words flowed out of him. 

Bruce set his fork down on the table with a soft clink and set his jaw. Steve could see his jaw muscle twitching as he figured out how to respond. He felt his anxiety rising as he watched Bruce put the pieces together quickly. 

He templed his fingers under his chin and leaned forward, staring Steve down with his dark eyes. 

"Something you need to tell me, dear?" He finally asked. Steve could tell how much effort was going into the control he had over himself. 

Steve shrank in on himself a bit, feeling the hairs on his arms raise. He swallowed and tried to control his breathing, trying not to let his heart race. 

"Uh, n-no," he lied after a moment too long. His face flushed at his obvious lie and he flicked his eyes in Bruce's direction. He could see the anger flowing off of the brunette and his arms crossed over his chest protectively. "I mean…it's not what you think. I didn't-didn't do anything, he just…I, I think maybe we should talk somewhere private."

Bruce slammed his hand on the table loudly, clattering silverware against dishes and glasses. Steve jumped hard at the sudden aggression and he was acutely aware of the other diner's shocked expressions as they looked at the two of them. He froze and held his tears back as hard as he could. 

"We're leaving. Flag down the waiter so I can pay. I gotta piss. Don't you dare go anywhere," Bruce demanded angrily. Steve's gaze was on his untouched chicken and mushrooms, hot tears sliding down his face slowly. He nodded and waited as Bruce stood and stormed toward the bathrooms. 

The mushrooms looked like snot. He hated mushrooms. 

When he finally saw the waiter again, he got his attention, trying not to get everyone else's too. The young man quickly came over with a dish of lemons in hand. 

"Everything okay, sir?" He asked, his brown eyes wide. 

"F-fine, fine. We uh, we need our check," Steve stammered without making eye contact. 

"Fine," the man said slowly before pressing on. "But are _you_ okay sir?" He asked softer, leaning toward Steve. 

Steve looked up at the young man with a shocked expression, then pulled on a weak smile. "I'm fine. We just need the bill."

"Of course, sir. I'll be right back with that," the young man replied, though he didn't sound confident. He slowly turned and headed toward the kitchen once again.

Steve felt completely humiliated, but he knew his own actions had caused the whole fiasco, so he took a deep breath and pretended not to notice the stares and whispers around him.

Bruce returned a moment later but instead of sitting in his own seat, he knelt before Steve, leaning in close. 

"I'm beyond livid," he all but whispered, reaching to the table and grabbing Steve's glass, taking a sip of his water. 

"I-I understand, Bruce, I'm so sor-" he cut off with a gasp, eyes round as saucers as he felt a cold sensation in his lap.

He glanced down to see that Bruce was slowly pouring his ice water into his lap, but before he could even process what was happening, Bruce surged forward toward him. 

At first, Steve thought he was leaning in to kiss him and he couldn't even begin to unpack his confusion, but he stopped centimeters away from Steve's lips. 

"Don't react. I've already paid the bill. Get yourself cleaned up and get to the car. I'll wait ten minutes. After that, you're on your own." He slowly stood, nonchalantly placing the mostly empty glass back on the table and he headed for the door. 

Steve couldn't understand what had just happened. Cold water soaked into his jeans, spreading across his thighs and leaving a big wet spot. His mouth still hung open in disbelief. If he stood up, everyone would think he'd pissed his pants. If he stayed there, Bruce would leave him, and he'd have to walk home with the stain in plain view. 

He finally got his brain back online, reaching a shaking hand out to grab his cloth napkin. He tried to be surreptitious as he dabbed and wiped at his crotch, trying to soak up as much of the mess as he could. 

Mentally, he couldn't wrap his head around what was happening. The evening had been so bizarre it was almost hard to believe it was even real. He was so completely humiliated. He was mentally and emotionally drained, as well as physically exhausted. He'd known the night would be hard, but now, he felt like he was trapped inside of a nightmare and no one was waking him up. 

Once he'd sopped up as much of the water as he could, he finally took a deep breath and prepared to make his walk of shame past all the other diner's toward the front door.

Before he could even fully stand, the young waiter was back. 

"Sir, the hostess says your bill is already paid. Are you sure you're going to be alright? I hate to be that person, but your date seems a little… _on edge._ "

"I…" Steve didn't even know how to respond to the young man. "I…will be…okay, I guess. Thank you for your concern," he finally managed, holding his napkin in his lap. The young man still looked at him with concern and Steve realized he'd have to just stand up and leave if he wanted out of the situation.

He sighed and shook his head, holding back tears again and he stood up, carefully placing the napkin on the table while still holding his hands over his crotch, though he knew the dark stain was more than he could cover. He hoped the young man wouldn't notice, or if he did, that he wouldn't say anything. 

"Have a good night," Steve threw over his shoulder, practically running from the building.

He burst through the doors and frantically headed for where they'd parked, seeing that thankfully Bruce was still there. He was in the driver's seat, head cradled in his fingers. He had on dark black sunglasses and Steve could almost taste the anger and annoyance rolling off him in waves. 

He quickly opened the door, sliding into the passenger seat and buckling in. 

It was silent in the vehicle as Bruce put the car into reverse, pulling out of the parking lot and getting onto the road. They drove for a few minutes quietly before Steve finally broke the silence. 

He just wasn't able to hold back his tears anymore and broke down into wet sobs, dropping his face into his hands. Bruce didn't react to Steve's sobs. 

Finally, Steve looked up at Bruce, anguish plain in his face and watery eyes. "How could you?" He finally asked, voice breaking on the words. "How could you do that to me?"

Bruce whipped off his sunglasses and looked at Steve with fury in his dark eyes. 

"How could _I?!_ " Bruce demanded angrily. "You dirty little slut!" He screamed.

Steve looked scandalized, gaping at Bruce. 

"No! No, it's not like that!" Steve defended hysterically, tears still flowing freely down his face. 

"Well, it sounded a lot like a confession to me back there!" Bruce roared, pushing the gas pedal harder in his anger. 

"Please, slow down Bruce!" Steve begged, gripping the door tightly in his fingers. 

"So you got trashed last night and fucked your coworker?" Bruce demanded, ignoring Steve's plea. "And your boss at that!" 

"No! We didn't! H-he kissed me! That's all it was! He just kissed me!" He did his best to convince Bruce. "Please, believe me, Bruce! I stopped! I stopped it!"

"Oh, believe you? After I just found out you cheated?! How am I supposed to believe a word that comes out of your filthy little mouth?" He raged. 

They turned too fast into Steve's driveway and Steve lurched forward when Bruce slammed on the breaks and put the car in park. He narrowly missed hitting his head against the glove compartment. 

"In the house," Bruce commanded, leaving the car and slamming the door before Steve could even unbuckle his seatbelt. 

Steve rushed to obey, pulling his keys from his pocket and shakily unlocking his door. He quickly stepped in, moving aside for Bruce to follow and he immediately realized that things were about to get worse. 

He turned the lock on the door and shakily turned toward Bruce, preparing himself for the worst. 

"I didn't sleep with-" he was cut off by a sharp, stinging slap across his cheek and he reeled in shock. 

"You betrayed me," Bruce growled. "You deserved that."

Steve held his cheek in his hand and slowly nodded. He had deserved it after all. 

"How many?" Bruce demanded, beginning to pace in front of Steve.

"How many…?" Steve asked, subconsciously taking a step back.

"Men. How many men have you fucked?" Bruce demanded, stepping into Steve's space. 

"No!" Steve gasped, his hands beginning to raise defensively before he could think about it. "Nobody! No one else but you Bruce, I swear!"

"Yeah, me and your little pal last night, right?" Bruce smirked mirthlessly. 

"Bruce, he and I did not-"

"Who was it? That big guy from James' case? The blonde one. I can see him wrecking your pretty little whore hole. Can see you taking it too."

Steve's face blanched and he felt nauseous at the way Bruce was speaking to him. 

"No, Bruce. Thor had nothing to do with-"

"Oh my God," Bruce gasped as he continued to figure out who it would have been. "It was that pasty little fucking twink from your office the other day, wasn't it? The one that called me a hook-up. That explains a lot actually."

"Please don't talk about him like that," Steve whispered, face heating in embarrassment. 

"That little bitch," Bruce growled, mostly to himself. "I should fuck him up."

"Bruce, I swear! Nothing happened! Our clothes stayed on, there was no inappropriate touching…we were both just a little too far in the bag and…we kissed. I swear, I swear, that's all that happened!" Steve pleaded once again, feeling beyond frustrated in his exhaustion. 

"Do you even want me?" Bruce demanded suddenly. "Because I'm nothing like that scrawny little toothpick. I thought you wanted a strong man to throw you around and fuck you right?" 

"B-Bruce!" Steve squeaked. Despite the situation, he still didn't like it when Bruce spoke that way to him. 

"Do you want me?!" Bruce screamed, stepping closer to Steve again and closing any distance between them. 

Steve took a sharp breath in and focused on Bruce's question.

"Yes!" He cried. "Yes! I want to be with you! I want to show you how sorry I am!"

"Good. Then you'll accept my punishment."

"P-punishment?" Steve echoed. Bruce gripped him by the arm and began yanking him toward the bedroom without another explanation.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TuRMoiL!!!
> 
> *screaming and fire*
> 
> Okay but for real, what do you think? Are you worried about Steve? Do you think Bruce is taking it too far? And what the hell is up with that angry dude? Should Steve even bother?
> 
> FIND OUT NEXT TIME ON  
> DRAGON BALL Z!
> 
> *I'd also like to add, yes I know pretty much everything I write for these characters is incredibly out of character for each of them. I actually love Bruce and don't think he really holds any aggression the way I'm writing him. Hopefully, that doesn't bother anyone. Truth be told, I despise Steve and have never written these characters, so hopefully it isn't too awful 😅


	5. One for the Money, Two for the Pain

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Steve loosed a yelp as he hit the floor, scraping his chin on the carpet and smacking his lip. He was sure it had split by the sharp burning he felt.  
> He let out another sound, one of pain and humiliation and fear.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Let's get right into it, shall we?  
> This chapter features dubious consent and coercion as well as physical punishment.

Steve didn't exactly resist Bruce's forceful pull as the man dragged him to his own bedroom, but he certainly didn't go willingly, either. 

"Bruce, please," he still pleaded, though he knew the brunette wasn't listening. "M-maybe we should just get some sleep and talk about this tomorrow?" Steve squeaked as they crossed the threshold of Steve's room. 

"No, you said you'll accept my punishment," Bruce growled. "So either you do or I'm gone, and I can promise you, you won't see me again."

Steve didn't have time to respond as Bruce held firmly to his arm with one hand and grabbed hold of the back of his head with the other. He shoved Steve forward, sending him sprawling hard onto the carpet. 

Steve loosed a yelp as he hit the floor, scraping his chin on the carpet and smacking his lip. He was sure it had split by the sharp burning he felt.  
He let out another sound, one of pain and humiliation and fear. 

He scrambled to his hands and knees as quickly as he could, but Bruce had already gripped the back of his sweater, yanking him up from the ground. He tossed him onto the bed with hardly any effort and Steve flipped onto his back, eyes wide with terror.

Bruce's face was angry, and he reached out to grab Steve's sweater once again, but before his fingers could sink in, he paused and his face grew nearly concerned.

"Stay," he commanded, rushing to Steve's bathroom. He returned in seconds with a handful of paper towels and he rushed to climb up onto the bed, frightening Steve in the process with his speed. 

Steve was almost surprised when Bruce grabbed the back of his neck to hold him still and began to gently dab at his lip with a piece of the soft paper.

"I didn't mean to make you bleed yet, Steven, I'm sorry," he explained softly as he applied pressure to stop the bleeding. Steve didn't miss the way he said yet. 

"C-c-can we please just talk? _Please_ , Bruce," Steve begged again.

“I'm still going to punish you, understand?” Bruce asked and Steve slowly nodded. After a moment, Bruce added softly, “you deserve this.”

"Brucie, I swear to you," Steve began warily, watching Bruce's movements and expressions carefully. "I swear, it went no farther than a kiss. I-I told him we had to stop because I realized it wasn't you and I didn't want it. Please believe me, Bruce."

"I don't have a reason to trust you anymore, do I?" Bruce asked in a dangerously soft voice, his dark eyes narrowed and hard. He let his hand fall away from Steve's lip with the bloodied paper towels and watched it for a moment. "The bleeding stopped," he announced. "Now let's talk about that scrawny little fucking tramp."

Steve's eyes widened at Bruce's harsh words and he swallowed thickly. "P-please don't…don't talk about him that way. Loki is a good man, we just made a mistake."

"Loki?" Bruce snorted. "How very pretentious." Steve squirmed uncomfortably in his wet jeans, the water in his lap still cold. 

"Why…why did you do this to me? How could you embarrass me like that?" Steve finally asked, feeling his humiliation flush his cheeks again and his eyebrows furrowed, indignant. Bruce reached his hand up and slapped against Steve's jaw firmly enough to sting but not hard enough to make his cut lip bleed again. 

Steve gasped in shock. It was the second time Bruce had slapped him.

"You don't look at Sir that way, do you understand?" Bruce demanded softly. "You humiliated me by being a cheating little whore. You deserved a little humiliation in return."

Steve gasped as Bruce reached for the fly of his jeans, but he already knew better than to try and stop the man. Bruce yanked his pants down his legs and threw them on the floor. Steve reflexively reached to cover himself, preserving any modesty he could. He knew his white underwear would be practically see-through from being wet. 

"Don't you dare hide that from Sir. That's my cock, do you understand that Steven?" Bruce growled, shoving Steve's hands out of the way. He quickly gripped the hem of Steve's sweater and Steve grabbed his wrists, feeling a cold sweat break out on his forehead.

"Wait! Please wait!" Steve pleaded, knowing that Bruce wasn't going to react well once he saw the hickey. 

"How dare you!" Bruce yelled, giving Steve another firm slap before he began to wrestle with the blonde to get his clothes off. 

"Bruce, please, I have to expl-!"

"I think you're missing a very big part of our relationship, Steve," Bruce growled as they continued to struggle; Bruce straddling Steve's waist and pinning him to the bed. "I'm the dominant one. I'm the one in charge. You knew that from the…" he trailed off as he continued struggling with Steve, trying to pull his sweater off. "The first time I fucked you on Tony's couch, you knew I was in charge then. That means that if you want to be with me, you need to submit. Stop fighting me, goddammit!" He finally roared, wrapping a hand securely around Steve's throat and pressing firmly with his thumb. 

Steve would have screamed if Bruce didn't jam his thumb directly into his windpipe, shutting off all airflow immediately. 

"You will take off this ugly fucking sweater and you will let me punish you until I feel better. Then, you will let me fuck you until I've finished and you will not ask me to come. Am I understood?" Bruce demanded. Steve was fading fast and Bruce knew he wouldn't respond. 

He watched Steve's mouth open and close slowly like a fish that didn't make it back to the water fast enough and he smiled. Steve's eyes began to roll back and Bruce knew he'd be unconscious soon. With a sigh, he finally let go of Steve's throat, listening to the deep breath Steve took for any rattling. 

He watched as Steve came back to reality, confused and scared, but he knew the man had heard and understood his instructions when he began fumbling to remove his sweater. 

He watched in amusement as Steve reached to undo buttons that weren't there before he finally reached for the hem of his shirt. 

"Bruce," his voice was soft, scared, and broken. "Please don't be mad."

Bruce quirked his brow and tilted his head at Steve's words, but he waited to hear what he wasn't supposed to be mad about. 

"I-it was just a mistake, I swear," Steve beseeched, pulling his shirt up halfway and stopping. Bruce waited for a few moments but quickly lost his patience again, grabbing the soft cloth and pulling it over his head fiercely.

A whine escaped Steve's throat and his hand flew up to cover the mark on his collar bone. His chest rose and fell rapidly in his anxiety. His scared blue eyes watched Bruce, afraid of what would happen next. 

"Let me see," Bruce demanded, knowing that Steve was hiding something. He watched the blonde slowly move his hand and his eyes widened when he saw the small dark bruise. 

"Are you fucking kidding me?" He asked, though it was rhetorical. His angry eyes met Steve's frightened ones and he raised his hand against the blonde, poised to backhand the man. 

"No, please!" Steve squealed, raising his arms to protect his face. "I didn't mean it! I swear, I didn't mean it!" Tears streamed down his face again. 

"Fucking slut," Bruce seethed under his breath. "Get on your hands and knees," he commanded, unbuckling his belt and pulling it from the loops on his pants. "Now!" He yelled when Steve hadn't moved. 

"Please-" Steve tried again but was cut off when Bruce lost all patience, gripping Steve's hips and manhandling him onto his stomach. 

"Get your ass in the air. It's time to start the punishment."

Steve's whole body trembled as he hurried to do as he was told, getting into the position that Bruce wanted him in. He'd barely thrust his ass into the air when a hard, loud crack rang into the air, ripping a frightened and pained scream from his lips. 

Bruce's belt landed hard, stinging and burning across his ass. He reflexively arched his body away from the assault and looked over his shoulder at the brunette.

"Better get that ass up and hold still, or this is going to be so much worse for you," Bruce warned, raising his belt over his shoulder, poised to strike again. 

Steve choked down a sob and forced his body to cooperate, leaning his chest down against the soft comforter. He felt another painful blow land against his ass and did his best to swallow his scream, gripping the bed beneath him tightly. 

Another blow landed, echoing around the quiet room and Steve squeezed his eyes shut. 

"How dare you let that little tramp mark your body!" Bruce bellowed. "How dare you let anyone but me claim you!" He swung again, cracking Steve hard across his back and shoulders. Steve felt his body jolt, fighting the natural reaction to get away. Bruce swung twice more, crisscrossing his whole back in angry red welts.

Bruce reached between Steve's legs and gripped the bulge there tightly, drawing another cry from Steve. He raised Steve's hips higher into the air and used the hand that held the belt to gently caress his balls. He then adjusted his grip on the belt and snapped it sharply against his sensitive sac, through his thin wet underwear.

Steve couldn't hold back his pained squeal, squirming, and writhing to get away. "Bruce!" He yelped. "Please, no! Please, not there!" He begged. 

Bruce didn't react to Steve's cries, holding his cock tightly as though it were a handle. 

"You deserve this pain, Steven." He snapped another slap to Steve's sensitive balls, ignoring the man's sobs and cries of pain. He let go of Steve's cock and wrapped his hand around the base of Steve's now swollen balls, rolling them gently to feel his testes inside his sac. 

He held firmly as he raised his hand to strike again. "I want you to think about the way this feels," he loosed his hand. "Every time you see that little queer." Another slap. "Every time you even think about fucking him again." Another blow. "Remember the pain." He let his belt fly one last time. 

Steve was a mess on the mattress beneath him. He quivered violently, knuckles white as he held onto the blankets for dear life. His face shone with tears and drool and his sobs were absolutely pitiful. 

Bruce loosened his grip and rolled Steve's testes again, checking for any internal damage. When he was satisfied, he let go of Steve entirely, petting the curve of his ass cheek lovingly. 

"Do you understand, Steven?" 

"Yes!" Steve wailed! "Yes, sir, I understand! I'm so sorry! I'm so sorry for what I did!" 

"You're not sorry yet," Bruce warned softly, letting his fingers pluck at the edge of Steve's white underwear. He gently took the fabric in his fingers and began to wedge it between Steve's cheeks, admiring the bright red welts on his alabaster skin. He hummed as he pulled Steve's fleshy cheeks apart, lodging his underwear further between them. He squeezed at the flesh gently and hummed, beginning to feel his own sense of excitement growing.

"Hold still for me, Steven. Now's the time to be a good boy, understand?"

"Yes, Sir. I won't move," Steve promised through his sobs. Bruce grinned and sat back on his haunches, moving to angle himself better. He dropped his belt to the mattress where Steve could see it and rubbed his hands together.

"Now I'm going to use my hands, and you're going to be a good boy and take it," Bruce informed. He paused for a moment to make sure that Steve didn't move, then when he didn't, he grinned. 

He raised his hand and let it fly, smacking hard against Steve's bare left cheek. He didn't leave enough room for a pause or reaction as he drew back and let loose again. He kept up his fast hard pace, smacking until Steve's left cheek was bright red and threatening to bleed. Steve shrilled and howled the whole time, his muscles clenching and tightening as he did his best to be still. 

Bruce quickly shifted, and began to work his other cheek, leaving angry handprints across the other side as well. 

Steve's ass was practically glowing when Bruce ceased his motions. 

"You look so pretty like this," Bruce purred. "Except for that fucking hickey." He let his hand slide up Steve's back and over his shoulder, fingers pressing into Steve's collar bone. He let his growing bulge press gently against Steve's hot ass, being careful of the fabric and the zipper of his pants. The blonde whimpered shrilly when he felt Bruce lean against him. 

"We're almost done here, Steven. You've been such a good boy so far. Such a good boy for Sir." He didn't expect Steve to respond.

He leaned over and began to lovingly kiss at Steve's shoulders and back, petting along his sides sweetly. He heard Steve sigh a breath of relief as his body relaxed and he smiled.

He continued pressing kisses against Steve's trembling muscles, listening to his sobs subsiding, and began to lick and suck at the skin beneath his lips. 

He heard Steve's breath hitch as he began to suck harder, sinking his teeth in slowly.

"Oh!" Steve squeaked softly, flinching away from Bruce's bite. "Please, Sir, that hurts!" He begged, beginning to squirm and whine again. 

Bruce chuckled as he let go, targeting another patch of smooth soft skin to latch onto. "Not more than the spanking, I'm sure," he teased before licking and sucking again. 

"Ow! No, Sir, that really _hurts_!" Steve tried again, voice breaking on the words. 

"Just hold still," Bruce replied quietly. 

He spent the next few minutes sucking painful marks of different shapes and sizes all across Steve's back and shoulders, holding him down to keep him still. When he was finally satisfied with the splattering of marks, he gripped the blonde's waist, guiding him onto his back.

"Let's take care of that little tramp's mark," Bruce cooed.

"W-what are you gonna do?" Steve asked. His voice was as watery as his blue eyes. 

"I'm just going to get rid of it," Bruce replied with finality, glaring at the bruise. "He made it pretty dark, so this is going to hurt. You can thank him for the pain."

Steve gasped but he didn't have time to respond before Bruce was already licking at his skin. He quickly latched on, sucking hard, sinking his teeth in deep. 

Steve made a sound like a wounded animal and grabbed Bruce's curls in his fingers, pulling firmly, but the man didn't budge. 

"Bruce!" He cried aloud, fresh hot tears spilling down his temples into his hair. "Bruce, please!" He wailed. 

Bruce didn't respond, instead bringing his hand up to cover Steve's mouth, pressing firmly. It stung against the cut on Steve's lip.

When Bruce finally released his suction, Steve was fighting as hard as he could to break free. 

"That's enough. You're supposed to be a good boy, Steven, and I expect you to be still."

Steve reached up and gripped his throbbing shoulder with a shaking hand, sobs ringing clamorously from the walls. When Bruce moved his hand from Steve's mouth, he couldn't stop himself. 

"Please no more, Bruce!" He begged, trying to curl onto his side. Bruce watched the blonde beneath him for a moment, then clicked his tongue as he made a decision. 

"Alright. We're done for the night," he announced. "Now it's Sir's turn to have a little fun." He opened the fly of his jeans and began stroking at his hard length through his underwear.

"Ready to take my cock?" He asked with a smile on his lips. He didn't wait for a response before he began stroking at Steve's inner thighs, urging them apart. 

Steve still sobbed, but he let Bruce move him where he wanted, knowing that now, his punishment was nearly over. 

"Please.. please be gentle with me," Steve implored Bruce, his voice soft and vulnerable. He didn't quite meet Bruce's gaze, but he looked up at the man.

"I wouldn't hurt you this way, Steven," he assured. "I don't want you to associate sex with pain."

Steve nearly laughed out loud, but he knew better. How could he possibly not associate sex with pain after this?

Instead, he nodded and watched as Bruce gazed at him, holding his legs spread wide and lovingly taking note of Steve's new welts. 

Bruce suddenly released Steve's legs and sat back, palming at his dick again. "Take off your underwear," he commanded in his soft way. 

Steve struggled but cooperated, hissing as the weeping wounds on his back screamed, and his ass throbbed and burned. 

"Good boy. I'll give you a little prep, but this one's going to make you sore." He hurried to grab the bottle of lube from Steve's nightstand and poured some into his hand, wiping it directly onto Steve's tight hole. He gasped and flinched at the cold sensation. 

"Spread 'em wide baby. Just like the whore you wanted to act like," Bruce ordered.

_He just wants you naked with your legs spread wide, Steve._

Loki's voice echoed in Steve's head and a few tears fell from Steve's eyes again. His face burned with humiliation, but he turned his head away and did as he was told, holding his knees to his chest and exposing himself. 

Bruce worked fast, dipping a finger into Steve's entrance and pushing past the first knuckle. The stretch burned and Steve whimpered but did his best to hold still. 

Bruce tugged at Steve's hole, forcing it to stretch faster than what was comfortable, and slid in another finger. Steve was thankful for the lube as he began to finger fuck him, Bruce's palm already meeting Steve's abraded skin. 

He was quick to work in a third finger, pulling and tugging Steve open wide as he pressed against his silky walls. 

Steve's chest was heaving and his forehead was sweating. He couldn't believe how badly he'd wanted Bruce to fuck him the last time they'd been together. This time, he just couldn't wait for it to be over. He couldn't wait for Bruce to go home. He couldn't believe this was happening.

"That's it, open right up for me," Bruce cooed as he reached into his boxers and pulled out his fat hard cock. 

Steve didn't look, knowing it would make him feel sick to his stomach to see what he'd be forced to take through his pain. 

"I hope you're ready for Sir. That's all the warm-up you're getting." He shifted closer to Steve's body and Steve could feel the soft hot head of Bruce's cock nudging at his barely stretched entrance.

He fought his natural reaction to clench up and tighten his muscles, knowing it would be worse if he did and he gasped as he felt his hole stretch around Bruce's cockhead. A guttural sound was punched out of him as he felt the whole head pop inside. 

Bruce poured more lube over his shaft to ease his way, then he went directly toward pleasuring himself. 

Steve felt immense pressure as Bruce's cock invaded him inch by inch, centimeter by centimeter, pushing his walls aside to make room for itself. When Bruce pulled back for the first stroke, Steve swallowed and prepared himself for the worst. 

Bruce grabbed Steve's legs and began to pump his hips firmly, the sound of skin slapping skin beginning to ring out into the air. 

"That's it, take sir's cock like a slut. I love this tight little pink pussy. You're such a little cock whore, Steven. That's why you needed it from someone else, huh? Just had to fill that aching pussy. Just didn't get enough cock from Sir. We'll make sure to keep that pussy full from now on, baby."

Steve's chest constricted painfully, despising the words coming out of Bruce's mouth. After that, he didn't remember much. Bruce fucked him until he was raw, both of them sweaty and gasping. He blocked out the words but he couldn't erase the sounds; guttural and angry in his ears. 

He didn't realize that Bruce had finished until he heard his name being called softly from the door to his bathroom. His eyes gazed unfocused at the wall, staring at nothing. 

"Steven," Bruce called again softly, standing with the light from the bathroom behind him, making it hard to see from the dark room where Steve lay. 

Steve felt like a zombie. There were no emotions left in him. He felt like he had no strength to do anything. He could barely feel his own body. His heart felt cold and empty. He glanced down at himself and saw that his body was indeed still there, now marked and marred with bruises he couldn't remember. 

"Baby," Bruce called softly again, finally getting Steve's attention. "Let's take a shower, honey. Let me get you cleaned up."

Steve didn't respond, just obeyed. He peeled his body away from the sheets and held back his hisses of pain when his wounds stuck to the material. He was covered in sweat and cum and he didn't even feel human. His head was filled with cotton and his whole body trembled and throbbed. 

He didn't know how but he was standing in the bathroom and Bruce was caressing his skin softly with the backs of his fingers, kissing along his throat and chest. All he could feel was the cooling goo that dripped down his inner thighs.

"You were such a good boy for me. I'm so proud of you," Bruce praised, but Steve didn't respond. The water in the shower was already running and he wasn't sure when that had happened. "Let's get you cleaned up now," Bruce said softly, guiding Steve into the shower. 

The water stung and burned against his skin, but he stood under the spray, letting Bruce gently cleanse him with soap on a soft cloth. The brunette murmured soft words against his skin, but Steve didn't hear them. He stood with his head down, watching the iridescent soap bubbles running down the drain. 

He felt Bruce's fingers prodding at his hole and he let his tears flow again, knowing that Bruce wouldn't see them in the water. 

The man pulled and scooped the sticky come from his insides, cleaning him thoroughly, and Steve realized that the only sensation he could feel was the pain. When Bruce was satisfied that all the come was cleaned from inside Steve, he pressed his finger in deep, searching for Steve's prostate. 

"You deserve this, baby," he whispered into Steve's ear. He meant to be soothing, as though it were a treat, but it sounded like another reprimand to Steve's ears. He let himself be pushed forward, placing his hands on the shower walls, and he stood silent as Bruce milked his prostate, tapping and pressing and circling expertly. 

He watched as his cock grew hard, drooling and shooting milky come down the drain. When Steve came, he didn't feel the pleasure, only the sensation.

"Such a good boy, Steven. I'm very proud of you," Bruce said again. "I want you to know that I'm still furious with you. I'm going to be angry for a while, and I will be keeping you marked until I can trust you again. For now, let's get some sleep. You look so exhausted."

Steve let himself be helped from the shower and Bruce dried him lovingly with a fluffy towel. He then grabbed a tube of salve from Steve's medicine cabinet and gently rubbed it into the skin of his shoulders and back, applying extra at the tender abraded skin on his ass. The sticky cream smelled like spearmint and reminded Steve of an old man. He quite enjoyed the smell before this particular moment. 

Steve felt Bruce lead him to his bedroom, stepping into a clean pair of underwear that the man held for him, then he felt Bruce pull a clean shirt over Steve's head. 

When Bruce helped him into the bed and under the soft covers, his eyes felt swollen and his tongue felt dry. He felt a small piece of plastic being pressed into his mouth and he wondered when Bruce had gone to get him a glass of water. He didn't ask as he drank down most of the glass. 

Before he knew it, he was asleep. 

When Steve woke, the first thing that passed through his mind was the pain. His back throbbed and he couldn't hold his legs together because of the swelling between them. He groaned as he felt a sharp pain in his head and his stomach rumbled, reminding him that he hadn't eaten anything but a banana the day before. 

He glanced over and saw that Bruce was gone at the same time the smell of food cooking wafted in from the kitchen, catching his attention. His stomach gurgled again painfully, rousing him from bed despite his pain. 

He limped on his way to the bathroom, adjusting his gait to minimize his pain. He washed his hands once he'd gone, avoiding looking at himself in the mirror. Finally, he glanced up, seeing a dark bruise peeking out of his shirt collar.

He sighed and turned away, hobbling for the kitchen and the delicious smells and sounds of food. He took care to walk stiffly to keep his shirt from rubbing against the wounds on his back as much as possible. 

When he reached the corner of the hallway, he hesitated before rounding it into the kitchen. He wasn't sure if he was allowed in or if he should be waiting in the bedroom. 

"Good morning, gorgeous," he heard Bruce's voice call gently. 

His heart leaped with hope at Bruce's sweet voice, none of the anger or malice from the night before left in it, and it raced with anxiety at what to expect. 

He peeked around the corner and found Bruce standing at the stove rolling crepes, piling them onto one big plate. He wore Steve's apron with no shirt and his gray sleep pants.

"Ready for breakfast?" He asked with a calm smile. He turned his head toward Steve finally and his eyebrows rose in something that resembled amusement. 

"Looking pretty rough there, sweetheart," he all but chuckled, grin crooked on his face. "Sleep okay? How's your back?" He asked, turning the knob on the stove to the off position and making a few strides toward Steve.

Before Steve could think, he reacted, pulling his hands up protectively over his face and hunching down with a sharp gasp. He peeked through his arms with frightened eyes when he realized what he'd done and saw recognition light on the other man's face.

Bruce halted his movements and nodded softly. Steve could see him thinking and he stood straighter, taking a step back.

"I…am _sorry_ about last night. It's not what I had planned," he began in a calm voice, now taking slow steps toward Steve with his hands out to show he meant no harm. Steve watched warily but he remained still, waiting to see what Bruce would do. 

Bruce softened his movements and lowered his hands reaching for Steve's waist and slid in close. It wasn't aggressive, it was romantic. He kissed Steve's mandible carefully, moving slowly, and then leaned his head on Steve's shoulder.

"I wanted to spend the night _worshipping_ you, not punishing you," he murmured, his lips just barely brushing the abraded skin on Steve's neck. "But you _cheated on me._ I couldn't just let that slide, Steve. Even you can understand that."

Steve met Bruce's eyes and slowly lowered his hands, resting them gently on the brunette's forearms. The gesture was less of a romantic one and more an act of self-preservation.

"But I-I've been telling you that I'm sorry. I never meant to do it, it was a mistake. I…I'm sorry, Bruce. _I'm sorry._ " It was the first thing Steve had said to the brunette since sometime the night before. He felt tears trying to well up behind his eyes, but they still felt so swollen and dry from crying the night before that nothing came out.

"I understand that Steve, and I appreciate your apology. But really, what kind of message would that send if I let you get away with it? Thinking you could just walk all over me and hurt me whenever you want because I won't do anything about it?"

"I, Bruce, that's not…th-that's not how…this isn't, I mean, I-I wouldn't…" Steve was exasperated. He couldn't make the words come out of his mouth no matter how hard he tried. His stomach ached and trying to think of a way to explain to Bruce how wrong this had to be was making his head pound. 

He winced and brought his hand up to his temple, holding his head gingerly. 

"Oh honey," Bruce cooed, rubbing soothingly against Steve's lower back. "It's time to sit down and let Sir take care of you. Let's get some food in that empty tummy and some medicine in you, too." Before he released Steve, he gripped the band of his underwear with his finger and pulled them away from his body, peeking down over his shoulder at his red, slightly swollen cheeks.

"Aww, baby," Bruce sighed. "Sit down if you can, my little baboon," he smirked, giving Steve a gentle pat before moving to let him go. 

Steve burned bright crimson at Bruce's words, feeling humiliated, but he slowly limped to the table, sitting down delicately. 

Bruce hurried around the kitchen, grabbing a plate from the cupboard and piling it with crepes and bacon and sausage that he'd made earlier. He smeared strawberry jam on Steve's crepes and pulled a few slices of toast from the toaster, buttering them quickly and setting them on Steve's plate. He hurried to pour a glass of milk for the man as well. 

"Let me get you some pain reliever to help with your swelling and pain management, too," he said as he hurried off to Steve's bathroom. 

Despite everything, Steve smiled. Bruce may have felt the need to punish him, even if Steve didn't totally agree with the man, but at least he was being sweet today.

"Here, take these," Bruce told Steve as he handed him three round pills. He knelt and watched Steve as he put the pills in his mouth, took a sip of his milk, and swallowed them. "Good boy. Open," he commanded, waiting expectantly for Steve to open his mouth and prove to the man that he'd swallowed the pills. 

"Bruce," Steve laughed awkwardly, feeling his face pink again. 

"Open, let me see," Bruce demanded again, reaching his hand up to pull Steve's lips open himself. Steve hurried to open wide before Bruce could pull at his split lip.

"Good. Good boy." Bruce leaned forward and licked his lips and Steve could see that the man was coming in for their first kiss since yesterday evening. 

"Be gentle, please," Steve asked softly, worried about the burning cut on his lip.

"Of course," Bruce whispered, closing the distance between them.

Steve felt his heart and head swimming in chemicals and emotions that warmed his body from the inside out and he smiled, leaning into Bruce's touch. All he could think about was how badly he wanted Bruce to hold him tight until he felt better. 

"Alright, baby. Eat up, I know you're hungry." Bruce stood slowly and moved back to the cupboard, pulling down a metal shaker with a handle. He quickly shook some white powder onto Steve's crepes and the blonde smiled up at him. He didn't even know he had powdered sugar in his home.

Bruce quickly headed for the island and retrieved the flowers he'd brought the evening before, bringing them to the table for Steve. "I found a vase," he informed as he set them in the middle of the table. 

Steve's grin grew as big as the split would allow. "Bruce, this is so amazing, thank you!" He said sincerely, feeling much better at the difference in Bruce's behavior. 

"I told you, Steve. Last night wasn't supposed to go that way. We were supposed to have a nice dinner, come back here, make love for hours while I make you cum over and over, maybe spend some time in the bath together…"

Steve blushed at Bruce's words but didn't say anything with his mouth full of strawberry crepe. 

Bruce had gotten himself a plate and was picking at his breakfast as they sat in silence for a few moments. 

"How…how many times?" He finally asked softly, taking a sip from his glass of water. 

"Hmm?" Steve asked, swallowing a mouthful of bacon. 

"How many times did…did he make you come?" He asked the question directly, dark eyes boring straight into Steve's.

Steve paused with his glass to his lips, shook his head, and took a sip, setting the glass back down. "We didn't have sex, Bruce," he replied calmly. 

Bruce let out a loud breath that sounded like annoyance, cleared his throat, and leaned forward toward Steve. 

"You can tell me the truth Steve, I've already punished you. How many times?" He asked again. 

"We didn't-" he was cut off when Bruce slammed his hand on the table the way he had the night before at the restaurant. 

"Stop lying to me!" He yelled, anger clear on his face. 

Steve gulped and his eyes went wide again, fearing for the worst. 

"Please, I'm not-" Bruce cut him off again.

"Come here," he demanded, turning to the side and opening his knees, pointing at the floor between them. Steve shakily stood, slowly making his way into Bruce's grasp. "Kneel down," Bruce commanded, and Steve obeyed. 

He could feel his heart thundering in his chest as he looked up at Bruce from the floor. 

"Open your mouth," Bruce instructed. Steve hesitated for just a moment, then did as he was told, opening his mouth wide. 

He jumped when Bruce leaned forward and spit into his mouth, followed by a sharp slap across the face. 

"Swallow," the man commanded. Steve felt tears pricking his eyes again, but he forced himself to swallow, feeling his gut churning in disgust. 

"How many times?" Bruce demanded again, voice gravelly.

"None," Steve answered again honestly. He was rewarded with another, harder slap. 

"You need to learn how to tell the truth, Steven," Bruce warned, gripping Steve's soft hair tightly in his hand. "I won't tolerate the lies."

"Please!" Steve cried. He couldn't remember the last time he'd pleaded this much in his life. "Can we just be normal?!" He shrieked, gripping at Bruce's hips imploringly.

"What does that mean?" Bruce asked, narrowing his eyes. He still held firmly to Steve's hair.

"Just…just normal! Just…no more punishment! Please! Let's just be _boyfriends!_ Just regular lovers, no chain of command!" He begged, tears falling down his face once again. "Sweet things!"

Bruce smirked and shook his head. "I'm not a regular lover, Steven. If you want me, you'll take me as I am. I can provide for you. I can cherish you and make you feel like royalty. I can make you cum until you pass out, but you need to accept me for who I am. And who I am is the man in charge." He shook Steve by his hair just enough to make him wince. "If you want a "regular" lover, you need to go back and find that little slut that you fucked at the bar and beg him to take you. But if you want better, you already have it. Don't fuck that up for yourself, Steven," Bruce warned, letting go of Steve's hair and giving him a shove backward.

Steve landed on his ass on the floor and let out a pitiful wail at the way it hurt.

"If you're done being a liar, I'd like to give you a little aftercare. Think you can deserve it?"

Steve wasn't sure what Bruce meant by aftercare. He'd never even heard of it before, but it sounded like Bruce would show him some form of affection, and he desperately craved it. He nodded his head slowly.

"Yes Sir, I want it. I'm a good boy," he answered softly, afraid if he spoke too loud he'd upset the man.

"Good. Go to your bedroom and take off your clothes. Lay on your stomach on the bed," Bruce directed, watching Steve as he slowly stood and turned for his bedroom.

Steve was sweating by the time he got to his bedroom. It sounded to him like Bruce just wanted to use him again, and the thought made him sick to his stomach, and sick in his heart. He couldn't handle any more abuse. He knew he'd break.

He slowly pulled his underwear down, letting them fall to the floor around his ankles, but getting his shirt off was another matter. It hurt so badly to move his arms enough to pull it over his head, and he struggled to do as he was told. The soft cotton material stuck to his welts, pulling at his skin as he tugged at the shirt. 

"You ready?" Bruce's voice called from the doorway, startling Steve. 

"I was listening!" He defended immediately, trying to keep the fear from his voice. 

"Need some help?" Bruce asked, and his voice sounded kind. 

"Y-yes, please. It just hurts so bad," he admitted, lowering his arms to his sides. 

"Awe, poor baby," Bruce sighed, moving to help Steve out of his shirt. He carefully slid his hand inside the neck of the t-shirt, tugging it away from his skin first before he began pulling it over Steve's head. Steve winced audibly but tried to keep quiet. Bruce shushed him gently and soon he had Steve naked.

"Lie down. I'll be right back," he said, heading for the bathroom to retrieve the salve. Steve did as he was told and tried to get comfortable on his stomach, waiting for the man to return. 

He felt the bed dip and move as Bruce returned and crawled over top of him, settling on his knees just below Steve's ass. 

It was quiet as Bruce began to rub the sticky cream into his back and shoulders, massaging and caressing his muscles. Steve let himself relax fully, drinking in the man's soft touches. 

Bruce covered each welt and bruise on Steve's back tenderly, moving to his ass next. He lovingly rubbed at the abraded skin, coating it in the thick solution, all while humming quietly under his breath. 

"Does that feel good?" Bruce murmured. Steve felt his lips curl into a smile and he nodded. "Yes Sir," he whispered back. 

"Good. This should help you heal faster and help the swelling go down. Spread your legs a little, baby. Let me massage your balls. I know they're sore."

Steve flushed with embarrassment and he considered telling Bruce that it wasn't necessary, but he didn't want to set the man off again. Slowly, he parted his legs and Bruce set to work on him. 

The man coated his fingers with salve first, then began to roll Steve's testes between his fingers the way he had the night before. He felt each one, squeezing gently and tugging. 

"Any internal pain?" He asked as he examined Steve. 

"N-no Sir, I don't think so."

"Good. Swelling is normal. Doesn't seem like you have any testicular torsion," he assessed, seemingly to himself. 

Steve knew the examination was done when Bruce began to roll and fondle him in his hands less than professionally. He could hear Bruce's breathing deepen behind him and knew the man was growing excited. Truthfully, Bruce's firm but gentle motions were making his cock stiffen between his legs, even though he didn't really want the attention. 

The brunette made sure to thoroughly coat Steve's swollen balls, tugging and squeezing gently, letting his fingers begin petting and pressing against the sensitive skin of his perineum.

Steve gasped when he felt Bruce's prickly stubble between his cheeks followed immediately by his wide, flat tongue pressed against his hole. 

He quickly began to suck on the furled muscle, tapping his tongue against it rhythmically and dipping his thumbs inside all while moaning his delight. His ministrations became more voracious as the minutes ticked by. 

Steve couldn't deny that physically, it felt… _nice._ He'd never experienced something quite like this, but his chest ached with how badly he'd rather be doing anything else. He didn't dare protest though.

"God, honey, I could eat you out all day," Bruce moaned, kissing at Steve's entrance. "You taste so sweet." He went back to his attentions and Steve could feel Bruce's spit slicking his crack, dripping down onto his balls. 

"Let me make love to you," Bruce groaned sounding breathless. "Come on baby, let's make love. The way we should have last night."

Steve let out a sound that was a whimper trapped in a sob and Bruce chuckled softly, low in his chest. 

"It'll be good, love. Slow and sweet and everything you could have had last night." He lifted onto his hands and knees, kissing gently up Steve's spine and across his shoulders as he did. 

"Roll over for me, pet. Let's get you loose and wet."

Steve held back the burning tears in his eyes, but he couldn't deny how nice it felt to be in Bruce's good favor again, even if only for a moment. He gingerly turned onto his back, hissing as the pressure stung his skin. 

"Such a good boy. You're so beautiful, Steven. So stunning." Bruce's eyes were warm and loving as they raked over Steve's body, taking in every detail. He ran his hands lightly over Steve's chest and stomach, raising goosebumps on his supple skin. His hands continued roaming over Steve's biceps, gently coaxing his arms up over his head.

Steve felt his breathing pick up and his chest rose and fell dramatically as he allowed Bruce to have his way. His skin tingled pleasantly at Bruce's touches, making his eyes feel heavy and his tongue felt too big for his mouth.

"Absolutely gorgeous," Bruce murmured to himself as he leaned down to place wet kisses across Steve's stomach and chest.

Bruce lavished Steve in affection, kissing, licking, and gently sucking at each inch of skin that he came across. He took his time, pulling Steve apart second by second until the blonde was squirming and gasping below him. When he was ready, Bruce worked Steve open like it was his religion, and the song on Steve's lips was a prayer.

By the time Bruce was ready for more, Steve was already flushed so bright he was practically vermillion from his ears down to his chest. He pressed back fervently against Bruce's hand, three fingers deep at least and his hoarse lusty cries echoed off the sparse walls. He was positively humming with pleasure and endorphins, buzzing beneath his skin at Bruce's talented hands.

"You ready baby? I can't wait to hear you sing." Bruce shed his clothes as quickly as he could and then he draped himself over the blonde, reaching between them to grip himself.

"Ready baby?" He asked again, waiting patiently for Steve to respond. Steve quickly nodded, his eyes staring back at Bruce's, but dazed and vacant looking.

"I need to hear you say it," Bruce insisted softly, pumping his cock a few times slowly in his hand. Steve could feel the man's knuckles gently bumping into the skin of his hot ass as he did and it made him want. He was basking in the sweet way Bruce was making him feel, such an intense high after the horrible pain and fear he'd experienced the night before. He almost didn't feel the stinging burn of his back, glowing the way he was.

"Say it, sparrow," Bruce coaxed, looking like he were on the verge of losing control of himself. "You know you want it."

"I do, I do," Steve cried finally, cutting through his pleasure induced haze. "Please, Sir?"

Bruce grinned and leaned down, pressing against Steve, breaching him again smoothly.

This time, Bruce made love to Steve, slow and deep and full, hips rolling and kisses landing everywhere they could reach and all Steve could do was enjoy it.

When they had both finished, Steve lay with a starry-eyed grin plastered on his face as he gazed up at the galaxies on the ceiling. Bruce chuckled on his way back from the bathroom with a wet washcloth.

"Earth to spaceman," he called playfully, wiping Steve's stomach tenderly. The blonde shivered as he came back to his bedroom, warm blue eyes darting to meet Bruce's. His face flushed as he realized that he'd been caught spacing out, but his smile grew back fast.

"Scared me," he said softly through a crooked smile. Bruce smiled back at him and the soft, melted look in his eyes made Steve's toes curl.

"I have to go to the hospital," Bruce informed Steve gently. "I got called in a minute ago. I'm sorry, Blue."

Steve pouted, but wrapped his arms around Bruce as he crawled over top of him, pulling him down onto his shoulder."I wish you didn't have to go." He felt conflicted as he said it but he didn't want to put too much thought into it. 

"Sorry, love. Next time we won't have to waste so much time on punishments," Bruce mentioned, too casually to be casual.

Steve felt his stomach turn at Bruce's words, but he took a fast breath and nodded. "Yes, Sir. I'll be good."

"Good. I have to shower and get out of here. I'll call you or send you a text as soon as I can." He kissed Steve and handed him the washcloth before heading for the bathroom. 

Steve quickly wiped himself clean between his legs, then turned on his side. A small smile ghosted on his lips as he thought about how amazing the last hour had been and he suppressed the memories that weren't as pleasant.

When Bruce left, he kissed Steve firmly and sweetly, promising to be in touch soon in a whisper against his lips. He reminded Steve to take more pain medication in a few hours. 

Before he let his embrace on Steve go, he leaned in toward the blonde's ear and murmured, "I know you're going to be a good boy...keeping himself out of trouble. I want you so bad, Steven. I'm so lucky that you're mine. I can't even imagine what I might do if I found out you hurt me this way again."

Steve heard the warning loud and clear.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Poor poor Stevie. 
> 
> Quite a mess he's gotten himself into now.


	6. Retail Therapy and a Sliver of Happiness

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> He had deserved it, after all. Bruce had every right to be angry. He'd deserved every bruise that he received. Still, once the raw terror was gone, it left him painfully empty. 
> 
> He didn't know what he was supposed to be feeling. He didn't know if this was the way he wanted his relationship with Bruce to be, but clearly, he had no choice.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There isn't too much angst in this chapter, I figured everyone could use a little break and enjoy some therapy with Steve.  
> I didn't do a lot of proofreading or editing on this chapter, so hopefully there aren't too many mistakes. Let me know if you notice any, or if you think I should add a tag, and as always, please enjoy!

Steve lay in his bed once Bruce had left feeling the euphoria of their last hour together ebbing away slowly and in its wake was left...nothing. Just emptiness. 

He sighed and rolled onto his side, staring at the rumpled blankets on Bruce's side and told himself he should get up and make the bed. 

He had the day to himself and he thought about heading to the store, buying all kinds of treats and treasures to bring for Peter. Instead, he lay on the bed until sadness consumed him, leaving him sobbing onto his pillow. 

He had deserved it, after all. Bruce had every right to be angry. He'd deserved every bruise that he received. Still, once the raw terror was gone, it left him painfully empty. 

He didn't know what he was supposed to be feeling. He didn't know if this was the way he wanted his relationship with Bruce to be, but clearly, he had no choice. 

He saw the way Tony was with James. He was sweet and doting and James was happy almost all of the time, but Tony didn't call himself the man in charge the way Bruce was. 

It felt like Bruce was trying to make him feel small. A part of him felt like he _did_ need Bruce, even though he knew he'd been fine before without him. Maybe that's what he was supposed to feel like. If he did as Bruce said, he'd be treated the way he deserved. He just needed to be more careful from now on. 

No more stupid mistakes. 

He didn't even want to think about Loki. 

Not his bright green eyes or the crooked way he smiled or the graceful way he held himself. 

He didn't think about the way his hands felt soft and adoring on his face when the man had kissed him. 

Instead, he thought about ways to please Bruce. He needed to be in the man's favor again. Things had been fine before. 

Maybe he'd be brave enough to address the shameless flirting. 

Maybe not. 

When Steve noticed the light moving slowly across his bedroom wall signaling the passage of time, he decided he needed to get out of bed. He needed a shower and to feel some normalcy again. 

He made the bed slowly, erasing the memories of the night before by straightening the sheets and laying the comforter flat. When he made it to the bathroom, his head felt like it was buzzing again; a swarm of locusts in his brain. 

He stood under the spray of the water and ignored the burn on his skin, washing thoroughly at the sticky salve that covered most of his body, trying to eradicate the smell of spearmint from his nose. 

When he'd finally dressed, he felt his heart lurch, knowing that he'd have to wear the blue sweater that Bruce hated to cover the huge bruise on his throat. It was the only long-necked shirt that he owned and he didn't want anyone to see the embarrassing marks on his skin. 

For a fleeting moment he wondered if Bruce would disapprove of him hiding the evidence of his punishment, but he pushed the thought aside and pushed forward to begin his day.

He pulled on a pair of khaki slacks and grabbed his wallet and keys, every intention of making it to the hospital today. He'd already been away from Peter for longer than he liked, and he wasn't going to add another day to that list.

He headed to the closest shopping center, entering the large store with a deep sigh. Truthfully, he had no idea what to buy for Peter. He remembered the way his gift of a stuffed dog had sent James over the edge and decided against stuffed animals of any kind.

When he stepped inside, the strong scent of gourmet coffee assaulted his nostrils and made his stomach turn, reminding him that he had only eaten a small amount at breakfast before Bruce had….

Steve shook his head, willing away the feeling of Bruce's hot spit landing in his mouth and headed for the little coffee shop, hoping the hot elixir would settle his stomach and clear his head.

Once he had a styrofoam cup of hot coffee, he sat for a moment at one of the small tables facing into the store and watched the other shoppers, formulating a plan of action before he dove head-first into the store.

As he watched the other people, mothers and daughters smiling together, happy couples, and a few elderly people, a head of soft ebony hair caught his attention as it bobbed over the top of a rack of stationary. He watched the person approach the coffee shop and tried to get a good look at them, curious if the shaggy hair belonged to a man or a woman.

When the person rounded the corner, Steve nearly choked on his hot coffee as he watched Loki approach the counter, scanning the menu as he made a decision.

He turned away a bit, not sure if he hoped the man would notice him or not.

 _Remember this pain_ he heard ring in his head. Bruce's voice. He became acutely aware of how raw his ass felt, inside and out, and the way he had to sit with his legs spread wider than normal because of the swelling between them. He felt his face flush as he was thrown into the all too fresh memories of his punishment. 

He groaned and sipped his coffee again, allowing his eyes to roam and take in the man that had him the most conflicted.

He didn't wear a uniform today, as he was off-duty.

Instead, he wore a long-sleeved shirt, black with thin white stripes across it. It was a little bit loose and it was tucked into tight-fitting black pants that were slightly high-waisted and very tapered. He wore a black leather belt with silver grommets and a pair of chunky black boots that made his body seem thinner than it already was. He looked so… _soft._ So svelte.

Steve found it interesting that his dark aesthetic made him seem at once intimidating, but also inviting and comfortable. He smiled a bit as he drank in the man's appearance, reminded of all the artists and creative people that he'd gone to high school with. He'd never dared to talk to those people.

He turned slightly as Loki leaned forward onto the front counter and watched as he ordered, smiling brightly at the young blonde man behind the counter. Steve smiled as he realized the raven-haired man was flirting and watched as he subconsciously (or not) pushed his ass out a bit.

The barista left to fill Loki's order and Loki turned around, surveying the little cafe. Steve quickly turned forward again and hoped the man wouldn't see him, sipping at his coffee. He wondered if he should just get up and walk around the store. 

It took a moment before the young man came back with Loki's drink order, setting it on the counter in front of him. Steve heard Loki thank the young man and noticed that he lingered a moment before he began looking for a table. He decided to get his attention after all, though very carefully.

"Did you get his number?" Steve asked as Loki approached. He turned slowly toward the man and saw a smile light up his face. 

"Steven!" He greeted happily, then his eyes turned wide as he quickly scanned the rest of the cafe. 

"I'm alone," Steven assured. Loki sort of nodded and cleared his throat, contemplating whether or not he should sit down. 

"Please," Steve offered, gesturing toward the chair opposite him. 

"Thanks," Loki replied softly, sitting gingerly on the edge of the chair. He set his drink down in front of him and Steve chuckled a little at what he'd chosen. It was something frozen, topped with whipped cream and laced with chocolate sauce and bits of chocolate cookies. 

"Sweet," he commented out loud. 

"Very. I have a little sweet tooth, I'll admit," Loki smiled, his cheeks flushing pink. "So…would I be too bold to ask how your date went? I'm honestly surprised you even want me to sit with you."

Steve blew out a breath and let his eyes wander around the little room again, taking a sip from his cup. 

"Well…it could have gone better, I'll admit."

Loki cocked his head to the side and his eyes narrowed. "What happened to your lip?" He asked curiously. 

Steve's eyes went wide and he reached to touch the split with his fingertip. 

"Oh, uh…it's nothing. Just a little accident."

"The kind of accident you have after you fight with your boyfriend?" Loki pried, sucking the straw from his drink between his lips. 

Steve didn't respond right away, knowing that his face was growing redder by the second. "Uh, partner," Steve corrected instead of answering. 

"What?" Loki asked for clarification. 

"Uh, he's my partner. Not my boyfriend. He doesn't like…" he trailed off, his wandering eyes landing on Loki's shirt. It made him feel a little dizzy and it made him smile. 

"You look nice. The dark thing really works for you."

Loki snorted and smiled at Steve. "Thanks. I like your sweater. I'd say you look like Mr. Rogers but I think that might be redundant."

"You don't think it's ugly?" Steve asked self-consciously, glancing down at himself. 

"No. It's very flattering. Matches your eyes and it makes your shoulders look… _broad_ ," Loki trailed off, sipping his drink again. His cheeks were still rosy. 

Steve blushed and smiled in response, feeling a bit better about himself. 

"So, as far as your partner…" Loki asked again, waiting for Steve to respond. 

"Uh, yeah. He's… _very very_ angry with me. He says he can't trust me anymore. I can't say I blame him, I should have known better," Steve answered stiffly, feeling awkward and trying not to give away too much. 

"You told him that nothing happened?"

"Yeah. He doesn't believe me." Steve sighed somberly.

Loki's eyebrows furrowed as he thought of a response. "Did..did you tell him it was me?" He looked nervous as he asked, fiddling with the condensation on his drink.

"Sort of. He kind of guessed."

"He's not out for some sort of revenge, is he?" Loki asked imploringly, green eyes searching Steve's.

"I don't think so. He probably wouldn't be too thrilled with me talking to you now, I'm sure."

Loki hummed. "Is that when he hit you?" He asked softly.

"What? No! No, he didn't…" Steve trailed off. He hated to lie and he knew he wasn't very good at it, but he knew he probably shouldn't tell Loki the full truth.

"Did he hit you anywhere else?" Loki pressed on.

"Did you get that guy's number?" Steve asked, changing the subject entirely.

"What?…What guy?" Loki asked, perplexed.

"The coffee guy. I saw you flirting," Steve teased, glad that Loki seemed to have taken the bait.

"No, I didn't ask. And I wasn't flirting, just being friendly." Loki glanced away and pretended his face wasn't turning red.

Steve arched a fair brow and grinned, sipping at his coffee.

"Well, where's your lovely partner now? Are you two still together?" Loki asked, trying to take the focus off of himself.

"We are. I have to earn his trust back, but I'm lucky he still wants me. He had to work today, he left this morning."

"After some _incredible_ angry sex, I presume," Loki smirked, slurping his diabetes in a cup. His grin dropped when he saw the way Steve's face paled. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to offend you-"

"No! No, I'm sorry. It…it was just a really _rough_ night."

"I'm sorry. I know that's my fault. I didn't mean to do anything to get you in trouble."

"Why _did_ you kiss me?" Steve wondered after a moment of silence, searching Loki's face and body language.

"Why did you kiss me back?" Loki finally answered with his own question.

The two men blushed and looked away from each other, neither having a proper response.

"You know, I should probably go. I have some things to pick up…" Steve trailed off again.

"Apology gifts?" Loki guessed.

"Uh…Well, that's not a bad idea actually, but no. I came to find a few things for Peter. I'm going to see him today. It's been a while, I don't want him to forget about me," Steve replied jestingly.

"What kind of things?" Loki asked, and Steve wondered if the man was reluctant to leave the conversation the way he was himself. 

"I'm not too sure. I want to get him some coloring books. Maybe some colored pencils?"

"Crayons," Loki asserted with a shake of his head. Steve tilted his own looking much like a confused puppy and Loki laughed.

"Sorry, I should-"

"No! That's a much better idea. Much safer. Actually, do you have any ideas for anything else?" Steve asked, leaning toward the slender man.

"Maybe I should just walk around with you and help you shop," Loki grinned, fully sarcastic.

"Yes, please," Steve responded, standing and taking what was left of his coffee. "I would honestly love some help. My brain isn't exactly online today. Actually, I was so depressed I could barely get out of bed this morning." He chuckled wryly. He quickly realized that that was probably the sort of thing you weren't supposed to share with the man that almost ruined your relationship.

"Oh, uh…Okay, sure. Let's do it. I have nothing better to do today. Thor was supposed to come over for dinner tonight but he got called onto a case, so now I have a whole kitchen full of duck and vegetables for ratatouille and absolutely _no_ desire to cook it," he sighed.

"Sounds amazing. I didn't know you cook," Steve replied, walking toward the store and pausing for Loki to follow. 

"There are a lot of things you don't know about me," Loki responded casually, taking his drink and following Steve.

Steve swallowed thickly as he watched Loki stand. It was more like he unfolded himself. He was already a bit taller than Steve, but with his thick, ass-kicking boots on, he seemed to tower over Steve. For some reason, it made his mouth dry. It _was_ intimidating, after all.

Loki noticed his apparently obvious awe and chuckled, reaching for a shopping cart and pulling it toward Steve. "Don't worry, I don't worship the devil," He smiled wryly with an eye roll.

Steve felt his face flame and he tore his gaze away from Loki's, tall boots, tight pants, long legs, baggy shirt, alabaster skin-

"I'm sorry! I don't mean to stare. You're very… _tall_. Uh, tell me about cooking?" Steve implored, beginning to walk through the aisles, glancing at everything cluelessly.

"I hate to do it, but I'm very good at it. Mother insisted that Thor and I take classes as children. Despite this, Thor cannot cook."

Steve chuckled and nodded his head. He didn't see Thor being very good at cooking anyway. 

Perhaps painting.

"You should get him socks," Loki said softly, stopping by a rack of undergarments.

"Thor? I don't know what size he wears but I can imagine it is _very_ large."

"No, you nut-loaf, I meant Peter. You should get Peter socks. He'd probably enjoy something other than what the hospital offers. Does he have clothes?"

"Not that I'm aware of. Clint didn't keep the boys in clothing, so I assume he probably doesn't own anything. 

"Get him something nice then. Maybe a soft robe to wear while he's there, or some comfortable pants. You said you want him to live with you eventually, so you could worry about a wardrobe later."

Steve smiled as he listened and glanced at the socks, trying to decide on some that Peter might like.

"How about these?" He asked, holding up a package of socks in purples, teals, and greens. They all had some sort of polka dots or other little designs on them.

Loki lifted his hand to his mouth to gracefully cover the laugh on his lips and he looked at Steve.

"I think he would love them," he responded.

"Really? Cause I saw you laugh," Steve smiled at the tall man.

"If he's been as deprived as I think he has, he'll appreciate bright colors and all things _comfort_. Just make him feel like a little prince."

Steve's smile grew so big that the split in his lip cracked and he hissed, trying to hide the way he dabbed at it to check for blood with the back of his hand.

"You should get yourself some chapstick," Loki advised, moving on to the young men's pajama section.

"O-okay," Steve agreed without a thought, throwing the socks in the cart and following along.

The two men looked at bathrobes together and they decided on the thickest, fluffiest one they could find, complete with images of pastel-frosted sprinkled donuts.

"You don't think it's too girly for him?" Steve asked as he set it in the cart.

"I don't think he'll care about gender roles, but if it does bother him, you could always exchange it," Loki suggested.

Steve paused and looked at Loki again, taking him in from head to toe. His eyelashes were long and full today and Steve was almost positive he was wearing mascara again.

"You don't care about gender roles, do you?" He asked softly, trying not to offend the man.

Loki spun and looked at Steve in a hard glare. He looked like he couldn't decide if Steve was being cruel or not.

"I…suppose not. Why do you ask?" He implored cautiously.

"I…" Steve swallowed hard and decided to be up-front. "Your makeup looks nice." Truthfully, he wasn't sure if Loki was wearing makeup or not, but he had a very good inkling.

Loki's cheeks grew pink again and he reached up to touch his cheekbone with his fingertips, ducking his head down a bit.

"You can tell?" He asked nervously.

"Your eyelashes look really…pretty?" Steve replied anxiously, hoping he was saying the right things.

"Oh…Thank you," Loki responded with a glance around them, clearly hoping no one else had heard.

Steve stopped himself before he could tell Loki that he was pretty again. He didn't need to open that can of hurt on himself.

"Let's uh, let's go look at books, shall we?" Steve suggested, walking past Loki, leaving it up to the man to follow him. He smiled when he heard the solid but soft thunk of Loki's boots behind him.

"Are you really a turtleneck guy?" Loki asked softly after a moment.

"What do you mean?" Steve asked, glancing over his shoulder and slowing his pace. 

"I mean, is that really your style? A turtleneck and khakis? Isn't that a little…"

Steve felt his gut churn as he waited to hear the word _geriatric_.

"Cute?" Loki finally finished his sentence. "Maybe a little boring? Where's the fun?"

Steve chuckled in relief and shook his head.

"Well, I suppose we can't all be edgy goth _bat-babies_ , right?" he quipped, poking at Loki's side a bit with his elbow.

"Ooh, good shot," Loki laughed warmly. "I suppose there can only be one prince of darkness," he winked, poking back at Steve with his own elbow.

Steve felt his knees buckle at the pain that splintered across his back, gripping the handle on the cart tightly as he tried to hold back his hisses and gasps. Loki's pointed elbow had caught him right in the middle of a deep welt across his side.

"Steve, I'm so sorry! I-I didn't realize-I, I didn't mean to-" Loki scrambled, his hands up as though he were going to catch Steve if he fell.

"It's okay," Steve gritted out through his teeth, trying to pull a smile on. "No big deal," he lied, taking a few more steps forward.

"Steve, did you fall down the stairs or something? What happened?" 

Steve felt Loki's concerned fingers lightly rest on his back and he shivered, feeling how cold they were through his thick sweater. The brief touch made his head spin and his skin ignite like a circuit board and he desperately wanted to beg for more. 

"Just a…an old back injury. Football days, you know," Steve tried to smile again, but he could see from the look on Loki's face that he didn't buy it.

"Mind if I look?" He asked, moving his hand toward the bottom of Steve's sweater.

Steve felt his face pale and he quickly shook his head. 

"I mean, I can't have you undressing me in the store," he tried to laugh, slightly limping as he finally found the aisles filled with books. "What kind of coloring book do you think he'll like? No animals, though. Bruce really freaked out James with a stuffed dog once…"

Loki gazed at Steve for another long moment suspiciously, then finally turned his attention to the racks. 

They spent over a half-hour choosing things for Peter, most of them Loki's suggestions before they finally headed for the checkout line. An older woman with silvery hair rang up all of Steve's items and he couldn't help but smile as he saw each item laid out before him.

His head felt much clearer, though it ached still softly. He still felt, for the most part, like shit. Everything swelled and throbbed and burned, but he smiled wide up at Loki.

"Thanks for your help," Steve said softly as the woman rang up the last of his things. Loki's ears turned red and he glanced away with his own shy smile. "Of course," he replied softly.

"You two sure are a mismatched couple if I ever did see one," the woman grinned from behind the counter.

"What?" Steve and Loki said in unison, both turning bright crimson. 

"Well, you're all…doom and gloom," she nodded toward Loki, "and you're all sunshine and puppies. They do say that opposites attract, I suppose," she chuckled.

She gave Steve his total before either of them could protest and Steve handed over his card, avoiding looking at Loki at all.

"You two have a nice day, now," she said to them both as Steve loaded his bags into his shopping cart. They left the store quietly. 

"Uh, I'm parked over there," Steve pointed toward the edge of the parking lot.

"I'm over there, but let me walk you to your car," Loki told Steve. The blonde grinned at himself as they slowly walked, listening to Loki sipping at his drink. 

"You know, the bartender told me the other night that we should use condoms," Steve said suddenly, breaking the silence. Loki coughed and sputtered as he choked on his drink.

" _What?_ " He finally asked, swiping at his mouth with his sleeve. 

"Uh, yeah. He told me if I was trying to get laid, that I should stop feeding you shots and buy you drinks instead." Steve clicked a button on his key fob and the lights on his car flashed, signaling that the locks had clicked open. He pulled open the rear hatch and began to load his bags inside.

Loki stood idly by for a moment before he began to help lift bags into Steve's car. "Okay…Why are you telling me this?" He asked curiously. 

"I just thought it was kinda funny. The bartender thought we were together, the cashier thought we were together…" he lifted the last of his bags into the car and finally turned toward Loki, eyes wide and nervous. "Maybe it could mean something."

Recognition seemed to light in Loki's eyes and he let out a little sigh as he took a step back. "I told you, Steven, I don't do relationships. I just don't."

"But-"

"It would never work. I'm your superior officer!"

"Maybe-"

"You _have_ a partner, Steven. You told me how much you liked him."

Steve sighed and turned away. Loki was right. He couldn't believe himself. How contemptible could he be? One bad night with Bruce and he was throwing himself at the first man that showed him attention? He was pathetic. 

He jingled his keys in his hand and forced a smile onto his face.

"I was just kidding. I really appreciate your help with all of this. I wouldn't have thought of half this stuff." He glanced up as Loki pulled down the hatch, closing the door for Steve. "I-I'm sorry."

"Does he hit you a lot?" Loki changed the subject again. 

Steve's face turned to surprise and his jaw fell open at Loki's question.

"What-No! No, he…he doesn't!" 

He _needed_ to get better at lying. 

" _Steve_ ," Loki pressed. 

"He…he's not abusive!" Steve defended, feeling himself grow more and more worried. 

"If you insist," Loki nodded, looking utterly unconvinced. He reached out to Steve with a tube of chapstick, handing it to the man. "You never got any," he informed Steve as the blonde looked at him quizzically.

Steve slowly reached out and took the tube from Loki, glancing at the label.

"Pomegranate and hibiscus...Thanks, but I can't take this," Steve said, trying to give it back. 

Loki put his hands up with a smirk. "No take-backs. It'll help with your busted lip."

Steve blushed and moved his hand to cover his mouth, then dropped it back down when he realized how ridiculous and pointless that was.

"Thanks," he finally replied, moving toward Loki with his arms open, impulsively looking for a hug. To his surprise, Loki wrapped him in his long arms immediately, holding him firmly, taking care not to touch his back too much. Steve took a deep breath of Loki's scent. It was something spicy that Steve recognized but couldn't quite identify. 

"Be careful, Steven," he warned softly before releasing the blonde. "Are you going to see Peter tonight?"

"Yeah, I wanna bring him all his new things. I still have about six or seven hours before visitation is over."

"That's good. I hope your day goes a little better than your morning did."

Steve smiled and nodded, gripping his keys once again. "I suppose I should…" he trailed off as he jerked his thumb toward his vehicle awkwardly. Loki smiled and nodded. 

"See you at work," he said softly, though he hesitated to move. "Actually," Steve eagerly turned toward the brunette. "Are you…doing anything tonight? For dinner? I don't want all that duck to go to waste."

Steve's eyes widened as he thought about it. Bruce hadn't said anything about coming back that night, and Steve knew he'd end up at home picking at junk food all night instead of eating a real meal.

"Yeah! I mean, no, I don't have anything planned," he answered hopefully.

"Okay. My place, say seven? Or eight?"

"How about seven-thirty?" Steve suggested, knowing that would give him plenty of time to get home from visiting Peter, get cleaned up, and get to Loki's house on time.

"Sounds perfect. Do you remember how to get to my house?" Loki asked, not mentioning that they had both been drunk when they'd last been there together. 

Steve nodded his head and Loki smiled. "See you tonight, then."

"Right!" Steve said, opening his car door and sitting down in the driver's seat. He waited to put the keys in the ignition, watching Loki as he walked across the parking lot. He saw that the man had a soft smile on his lips and it made him grin from ear to ear. 

Steve was pretty sure he didn't exceed the speed limit as he drove across town to the hospital where Peter was staying but he wasn't entirely sure. His whole body thrummed with electricity and he couldn't stop smiling. He was so excited to see Loki again, even just as co-workers.

There was something about the fair, raven-haired man that made Steve feel _euphoric._

Sure, he was absolutely stunning when it came to looks, but he was also so _sweet_ , and his humor was so wry and sarcastic. He was so smart, and _God_ , he was kind. He didn't have to stay with Steve and help him shop for Peter, but because he had, Steve had tons of things that he couldn't wait to bring to Peter that he never would have even thought of. 

Of course, Loki had told him more than once now that he wasn't interested in a relationship, so getting his hopes up at all was foolish. And even considering trying to have one with the man was dangerous. Bruce believed that they'd already slept together and just look at the mess it had put Steve into. He couldn't imagine trying to tell Bruce that he was leaving him for the man he cheated with. 

That thought made his gut churn and he realized what he was doing. He was romanticizing a relationship with someone that didn't want him when he had a perfectly loving partner that wanted him _badly._

Bruce _was_ a good partner. He cared about Steve and he was a hard worker at the hospital, which proved he cared about other people too. He was so sweet when Steve didn't deserve punishment. So romantic. His touches were soft and loving and Bruce never missed an opportunity to make Steve come. He had sweet little nick-names for Steve and he was even good to James, which was really important to Steve. 

He might not be fully on board with adopting Peter, but of course, Steve understood. He wasn't ready to be a dad yet, and Steve was selfish for trying to push him too fast. 

Steve took a deep breath as he pulled into the parking lot, telling himself that he needed to slow down with his obsession with his boss and focus on what he could do to please the lover that he had. The one that wanted him. 

He needed to win back his favor, prove to him that Steve was worth his time and attention. The next time he saw the man, he'd prove how much he deserved it. He'd just have to leave out the part where he went to dinner with Loki.  
At his house.  
_Alone._

Hopefully, Bruce wouldn't see through him. He was sure the punishment for the _actual_ indiscretion would be worse than the fictional first one. 

He quickly pushed those thoughts aside and began to unload his bags, heading into the hospital excitedly.

"I'm here to see Peter!" He announced to the nurse at the desk eagerly. He reached for the clipboard to sign his name and the time. 

"Oh, hello officer!" The friendly woman greeted with a smile. "Nice to see you back again! He'll be glad to see you, too. Hasn't had any visitors since the last time you were in." She glanced at all the bags in his hands and grinned. "Didn't have time to drop off your groceries?" 

"Oh, it's all for him! I can't wait to show him what I got him!" Steve beamed. 

"Aren't you sweet? Well, be sure not to overwhelm him. Enjoy your visit!"

Steve thanked the woman and headed for Peter's room, all but humming as he went. 

"Oh, and officer!" She called over his shoulder, making him stop before he could get too far. "That civilian look is nice on you!" 

Steve grinned and thanked her, glancing down at himself. Maybe the sweater wasn't as bad as Bruce said. 

Steve paused at the door to Peter's room and glanced inside. Poor Peter looked miserable. 

His hands were still bound and the chain was tethered to the wall. He knelt in the farthest corner of the room, rocking back and forth slightly, and he whispered softly to himself. Steve leaned closer to try to hear what he was saying. 

"Daddy left Petey…Bucky all gone…Harley _gone gone gone_...Petey all alone...not wanna be alone…"

Steve felt his happiness waver for a moment, but he filed away the new name for later. At least he was here now. 

"Petey-Pie?" He called softly into the room, taking a slow step over the threshold. Peter started at the sound and spun around with owlish eyes to see who had spoken. "It's me, honey. Can I come see you?" Steve asked, watching Peter's body language intently.

Peter gasped and his whole face lit up. He began to bounce excitedly on his feet, then dropped to his hands and knees and tried to scurry over toward Steve, stopped quickly by his binds. 

He let out a soft yelp, glancing at the padded cuffs around his wrists, then back at Steve. He let out a pitiful whine and tried once again to reach Steve. 

"Hey, babe, it's okay! Can I come over?" He asked, already beginning to crouch down. 

Peter nodded his head vehemently and whined again, pulling at his wrists. 

Steve dropped his bags onto the floor and crawled over to Peter happily, reaching his hand out warily once he was close enough.

Peter eagerly pressed his head into Steve's hand, petting himself with it. Steve quickly scooted closer, wrapping his arms around Peter and pulling his tiny weight into his lap. 

"I'm so glad to see you, honey! I'm sorry it took me so long, I missed you!" Steve told Peter quietly. The young man pushed his cold nose into Steve's throat the way he had the last time he'd seen him, and Steve was glad the long neck of his sweater could help keep his nose warm. 

He reached a hand down and took Peter's small foot into his hand, noting how cold he seemed to be everywhere. 

"Honey, you're so cold! Hey, I got some presents for you that I think you might like. Wanna see them?"

Peter whined a short little sound, but it sounded like comfort rather than fear. He whispered something that sounded like the word presents, and Steve grinned. 

"I got you some soft socks to keep your feet warm. Would you like to see?"

"See," Peter whispered voicelessly. 

"Okay, baby, let me get you up into bed so I can show you all your new treats!" Steve stood with Peter in his arms and he could swear he heard the boy giggle. He set him gently onto the bed and rushed around to the other side to retrieve his bags, setting them on the chair on the opposite side of the nightstand. 

"Let's see here, I got you a nice new, soft blanket!" He said excitedly, pulling it from a bag. It had a pattern that resembled a Van Gogh painting in greens and blues and Loki had said it was good for people with anxiety. It was heavy. 

Steve feigned a groan as he unfolded it and draped it over Peter, making the boy giggle. 

"Comfy?" Steve asked as he reached into another bag.

Peter nodded and pulled the blanket up to his chin, looking adorably dwarfed by the material. 

"Good. I got you…" he pulled a small package from the bag. "A nightlight!" He announced, quickly opening the package and pulling out the small device. He quickly crossed to the wall that Peter seemed to crouch by most often and plugged it into the outlet. Once he turned it on, stars and planets began to shine brightly on the ceiling, spinning magically. 

Peter looked up at the stars and gasped in wonder, his eyes bright. 

"Like that, huh bud? How about snacks, are you hungry?" He smiled, grabbing a bag that he knew was filled with cookies, candies, pastries and all the treats Loki thought Peter might like.

Steve grabbed handfuls of things, placing them on the nightstand beside Peter, emptying the bag.

Peter's eyes grew wide as he watched Steve fill the tabletop with food, though he didn't reach for anything, tucking himself deeper into his new blanket.

"It's all for you, babe! What would you like to eat?" Steve asked, reaching for another bag as he did. He pulled out a package of socks and ripped it open, pulling a pair out and holding them up to look at them.

He looked up when Peter hadn't moved an inch and smiled at him, moving closer to the side of his hospital bed.

"Can I sit?" He asked, gesturing to the edge of the bed. Peter nodded from under the blanket, just his eyes poking out the top.

Steve sat gently, resting his hand on the blanket where Peter's feet were and he gave them a gentle, reassuring squeeze.

"It's okay to eat, doll face. No one's going to hurt you anymore. Do you understand that?" Steve asked softly, keeping his tone gentle. Peter looked away, turning his gaze to his new nightlight.

"Clint is all gone now. Does that make you sad?" He asked, hoping he wouldn't send the boy into a panic. 

Peter's eyes began to shine with tears, but they slid back to Steve, gazing at him for a long moment. Finally, he nodded and silent tears began to stream down Peter's cheeks, being soaked up by the new blanket.

"Yeah? Honey, that's okay. It's okay to be sad. But Clint used to hurt you, and your brothers. Now, he's all gone, and he can't hurt you anymore." He stayed quiet for a moment, watching Peter's reactions to his words. He heard the young man sniffle a few times and rubbed his cold feet again. "Can I put these socks on your feet? Your toes are so cold."

Peter's head cocked and his eyebrows quirked up curiously. He clearly wasn't sure what Steve wanted.

"On your feeties," Steve said again, sliding a shoe off and lifting his socked foot to show Peter what he meant.

Peter looked nervous still, but nodded his head anyway, watching Steve's every move like a hawk.

Steve grinned and stood up, moving toward the end of the bed. He slowly lifted the blanket, folding it back and exposing Peter's feet. The young man's toes curled in the sudden rush of cold air and Steve grinned at him, slowly leaning down toward his feet with a mischievous grin on his face.

He gently reached for one of Peter's feet, taking his heel in his palm and lifting it slowly off the bed. He kept his eyes on Peter's and saw that the boy wasn't afraid, more curious.

Before Peter could guess what would happen, Steve pressed his mouth against the sole of Peter's foot and began to blow loud obnoxious raspberries, sending Peter into a fit of giggles. The boy shrieked and squirmed with glee and Steve climbed onto the foot of the bed, reaching for Peter's other foot, tickling it with gentle fingertips.

"Gotcha!" He exclaimed, holding Peter's ankle firmly but not so hard that he couldn't get away. He quickly pulled the blanket over his head, attacking Peter's feet and legs with kisses and tickles while Peter still bubbled with laughter from the other end of the bed.

"I'm the tickle monster!" Steve let out in a silly voice, letting himself get caught up in the pure, wholesome fun of making Peter laugh. 

"Peter!" A voice called from the doorway sounding panicked. "What the-hey!" 

Steve felt strong hands grab his sides, yanking him out from under the blankets.

"Hey!" He cried, turning onto his back to fend off his attacker.

"What are you doing?!" The man yelled, anger evident on his face. "Don't you have any idea what he's been through?! How dare you!" He gripped Steve by the arm and pulled him to his feet from the bed. 

"Wait!" Steve yelped, holding his hands up defensively. "I-I wasn't-"

"I saw you under his blanket!" The man yelled, reaching to take Steve's arm again, pulling him toward the door. "I'm calling security!" 

"Wait! Please!" Steve cried, resisting his pull. "It's me, it's officer Rogers! I wasn't hurting him, I swear!"

The man stopped and glared back at Steve, still not releasing his arm.

Steve could hear Peter whimpering on the bed behind him, his stomach sinking as he realized the way this must look to him.

Steve recognized the man as the nurse, or perhaps doctor that had been in Peter's room each time he'd been there. He watched his angry blue eyes soften as recognition dawned on him and he slowly began to loosen his grip on Steve's arm.

"What…what were you doing to him?" He demanded, taking a quick look around the room and at Peter. "Are you okay, Pete?"

"I was just tickling him, that's all! I would never hurt him!" Steve promised.

Peter whimpered softly from the bed.

"I…I'm sorry. I didn't mean to hurt you if I did. I was just worried about my boy, here. He doesn't get a lot of visitors, so I thought…" 

"You thought someone was hurting him," Steve finished, straightening his sweater. The doctor panted a bit, running his hands through his ebony hair.

"Yeah…" He met Steve's blue eyes, and for the first time, he realized that, though his eyes were light, they were greenish-hazel, not blue.

"I didn't mean to worry you. I gotta say though, I'm glad you were so worried. It's nice to know that people care about him."

"Yeah…" The doctor said again, glancing around at all the bags and Peter's colorful new blanket. "What's going on? Is it his birthday?"

"Uh, no…I just wanted him to be more comfortable. Eventually, I… _hope_ he'll come home with me to stay. I just want to make him happier while he's here."

"Wow, that's really sweet," the man smiled, gazing at Steve for a moment. Finally, he held his hand up to shake with Steve. "I'm Doctor Lang."

"Steve Rogers," Steve replied politely, taking the man's hand.

"It's nice to know that he has someone. Truth be told, I don't know that he'll be able to fully recover from all of his traumas."

"Yeah, you had mentioned that before. Has he eaten anything solid since the last time I was here?"

"Oh yeah, you're the candy guy. Uh, no, still just tube feeding. He's gotten better with it though."

"That's good. Mind if I try to get him to eat some snacks?" Steve asked, turning toward the small stockpile on the table.

"Of course, please!" Doctor Lang replied. "By all means." The man went to the machine that Peter was hooked to and began checking the vital signs that it displayed and his bags of fluid.

Steve watched the man for a moment, then went back to the pile of junk food. He decided on a pastry that was filled with chocolate and wrapped in cellophane and began to unwrap it.

"Here, Pete, you okay buddy?" Steve asked as he broke a small piece off the top of the pastry.

Peter turned his attention from Doctor Lang back to Steve and his eyes looked worried but not frightened. 

"It's okay buddy. The doctor was just worried that I was hurting you. I wasn't hurting you, was I?" Steve asked, offering the small piece of bread.

Peter shook his head no and stared at the treat in Steve's fingers.

"Try it, remember how much you liked those candies?" Steve reminded Peter, still holding the treat out to Peter.

He heard Peter sigh and slowly, he pulled the blanket back down under his chin, slowly opening his lips for Steve.

"Atta boy," Steve praised softly as he carefully placed the small morsel on Peter's tongue. "Good job, pal."

Doctor Lang had paused in his motions to watch Steve quietly, and when he got Peter to eat, he let out a low whistle.

"That's amazing," he commended, looking to Steve with shocked eyes. "You're really good with him."

Steve couldn't help but beam, remembering that Tony had said nearly the same thing to him when he'd met James.

"Thank you," he replied proudly, offering Peter another small piece. Peter nodded eagerly and opened his mouth again, letting Steve feed him once again.

"So you want to adopt him, huh?" The doctor repeated, finishing whatever he was doing and moving to the chart hanging from the end of the bed to record his finds.

"That's the plan. He deserves somewhere to go, too, right?" Steve answered, offering the whole pastry to Peter, who took it eagerly.

"Wow. You're a great guy," he smiled warmly at Steve for a moment that was strictly longer than it needed to be, but Steve didn't notice. "You look at him like he hung the moon." He paused, seeming to think for a moment before he spoke again. "If you need someone to vouch for you, I will," he finally stated. 

Steve looked up at the man, shocked, his mouth hanging open. "Uh… _thanks._ Thanks a lot." He didn't know what to do for a moment, so he grabbed the forgotten socks from the end of the bed and sat down, taking Peter's feet out from under the blanket again. He lovingly pulling the socks over his cold toes and placed them back under his blankets again, all the while, Doctor Lang watched, fascinated.

"Oh, hey. I bought him some things to make him more comfortable," he told the doctor as he stood and grabbed for the remaining bags. "He has a robe, in case he gets cold. I know he has to wear those shackles but, maybe you could let him wear it now and again?" Steve asked as he walked past the doctor to hang it on a hook that stuck out from the wall.

"And I got him some coloring books and crayons. I got special triangle-shaped ones so they won't break when he uses them." He pulled them from the bag and held them out to show the doctor, along with a few board books that were meant to help babies sharpen their senses and recognize objects. Loki had said it would help him start learning again.

"Wow, you thought of everything," Lang marveled, taking in what Steve was showing him. "I can make sure that he can wear that, it'll help a lot, thanks."

Steve nodded and moved to retrieve the last bag, noting Peter tracking his moves curiously.

"Last thing, buddy. How do you feel about this?" He asked, pulling out a baby doll and showing it to Peter.

The young man pulled the last bit of the pastry away from his chocolate decorated face and gasped at Steve, his eyes wide. He glanced from the baby to Steve and back again, dropping his treat to the bed and thrusting his arms out for the doll.

Steve chuckled and handed the doll to Peter as though it were a real baby, cradled softly in his hands.

"You have to take real good care of your baby, okay Peter?" Steve asked.

The boy took the doll and immediately held it to his chest, rocking it slowly with his eyes closed happily.

" _Wow_ ," Lang marveled again, shaking his head in disbelief. "Thank you!" he said again, rushing toward Steve with his hand out again. Steve took it and the doctor gripped his hand tightly, placing his other hand overtop. "This could change everything for him! Thank you so much!"

Steve didn't say anything, face turning pink as Lang continued to shake his hand up and down.

"He's eating! He's _wearing socks!_ "

Steve snorted and did his best to politely pull his hand back. "I do my best, I suppose."

"Well, your best is amazing. I, uh, guess I'll come back later though, and let you get on with your visit." he shifted his weight from foot to foot awkwardly for a moment and finally reached out to grab Steve's hand again, shaking vigorously. 

Steve laughed at how maladroit they both were and watched as Doctor Lang finally exited the room, shaking his head.

"You still doing okay, pal?" Steve asked as he turned back to Peter.

His eyes went soft and he felt his heart melt a bit when he saw that Peter was holding the baby doll in one arm, cradled to his chest. His pinky from his opposite hand was stuck into its mouth and he was making soft cooing noises at the baby as though he were comforting it. 

Steve sighed softly and decided to hurry and scoop up the empty bags to throw them away before he attempted anything else.

"Oops, almost forgot," he murmured aloud as he realized one of the bags still had something in it. "How about we snuggle up and watch a movie?" he asked, brandishing a DVD copy of The Wizard of Oz. "It's one of my favorites."

Peter smiled up at him, looking blissful, and Steve grinned wide. He hurried to turn the movie on, then quickly moved to lay beside Peter on the bed.

"Is this okay?" Steve asked, gently lowering his arm across Peter's waist. Peter nodded and eagerly scooted closer to Steve, curling into the man's side with his baby.

"What a pretty baby, Petey. I like her yellow clothes. Do you like your baby?" Steve praised softly into Peter's ear.

Peter suddenly looked up at Steve and he seemed to contemplate something for a moment. Finally, his lips parted, and very slowly, he _spoke._

"You…Pete n-new…daddy?" His voice was soft and scratchy, croaking like a frog, but high pitched and slightly infantile sounding. Steve gasped and jumped a little at the unexpectedness of it. It was the first words he'd ever heard Peter speak.

"Uh, n-no, Pete. I'm not-" he stopped when Peter's face fell, and the young man began to squirm away from Steve.

"I-I mean, do you want me to be your dad, Peter? Do you want me to adopt you?" Steve's heart leaped; excited, but not sure if Peter understood.

"Petey's…daddy?"

Peter's soft, sweet voice brought tears to Steve's eyes.

"I-if it's okay with you…I would love to be your new dad, Pete," Steve finally choked out, swiping at his dewy eyes with his thumb.

Peter beamed and snuggled back into Steve's side, squeezing his baby doll tightly to his chest and sighing as he turned his attention to the television mounted on the opposite wall. 

Steve floated in jubilation for the remainder of his visit. The movie didn't hold Peter's attention for very long, and Steve happily read some of the board books he'd bought to Peter a few times over. Peter seemed to love one in particular that contained pictures of animals and flowers that were contrasted in black and white. Steve was proud to have been the one to have chosen it. 

Peter would point at the pictures and wait for Steve to announce what it was, giggling after he had. Steve couldn't imagine loving a baby book more than he did at that moment. 

When it came time to go, Steve was hesitant. He knew he'd have to leave when visiting hours ended, but he didn't know if he'd be able to explain it in a way that Peter would understand. 

"Baby, I'll be back to see you as soon as I can," he said softly, squeezing Peter tightly in his arms. 

Peter whimpered and clutched at Steve's sweater, reluctant to let him go. 

"I know, honey, but Doctor Lang will take good care of you! I promise I'll come back soon, and hopefully, soon I can bring you with me!"

"Hey-o!" A cheerful voice called, accompanied by a knock on the door frame. "Hey, guys! Did you have a good visit?" It was Doctor Lang, and a smaller, Asian woman followed him in. 

"Hey, Doctor. I know visiting hours are over, I was just saying my goodbyes," Steve told the man warily. He still felt awkward from the situation before, but Lang didn't seem to mind. 

"No worries. We're here to administer his sedative and check vitals," he announced as the young woman began to poke and prod at the machine from before. She pulled down the nearly empty saline bag and replaced it with a full one while the doctor pulled a syringe and a vial of clear liquid from the pocket of his lab coat.

Peter began to mewl pitifully, clutching tight to Steve again. The blonde could feel his tears soaking through his collar. 

"Oh, honey! I know it's scary, but the doctor is going to take good care of you, I promise!" Steve tried to soothe, glancing at Lang. "You know, have you ever considered giving him melatonin instead of a shot?" Steve suggested, hating to see Peter this way.

"Melatonin wouldn't be strong enough to last the night, plus until recently, he hasn't eaten anything," Lang pointed out. "Hopefully soon we can trust that he'll stay in bed, but until then…" he brandished the needle full of sedative and moved closer to Peter.

"Going to hold him for me?" The doctor asked Steve.

"I-I suppose so," Steve agreed reluctantly. He tightened his grip and watched as the quiet nurse handed an alcohol-soaked piece of gauze over the bed to the doctor. 

Doctor Lang moved Peter's hospital gown out of the way and rubbed the boy's bare hip with the pad. Peter jumped hard at the cold feeling. Steve could see that there was a small bruise from being injected at other times. 

"Really quick now, buddy," Lang said, focused on his task. He quickly plunged the needle into the fleshy part of Peter's hip and pressed down the plunger, shooting the liquid into his veins. 

Peter let out a shrill cry and squeezed Steve so tight he thought he might bruise both of them. 

Steve watched as Lang quickly spread Peter's cheeks and checked his hole the way he'd watched him do the first time and he felt a chill run through him.

"Looks pretty good, kid," the doctor announced, pulling his gown back into place. "It's time to say goodbye to Steve now, okay?"

Peter clung to Steve's arm as the blonde tried to stand up, but Doctor Lang gently held him back, soothing him and rubbing his arms comfortingly.

"I promise I'll be back, Petey-Pie. You eat up all these snacks and color me some pretty pictures to see when I'm here next, okay?" Steve smiled softly at Peter, hoping to calm the boy. It worked a little bit, but he knew Lang would have to deal with a little angst once he left. 

He quickly leaned forward and pressed a kiss to Peter's forehead, doing his best to not be affected by his whimpering.

"Thanks, doctor," Steve said quickly, grabbing his wallet from his pocket and pulling out a card with his name and number on it. He quickly tacked it to the bulletin board on Peter's wall.

"In case you need me," he offered, before waving and heading for the front desk. 

He couldn't stop himself from smiling as he headed to the checkout desk. This had been by far the best visit he'd had. Peter _wanted_ to come home with him, he couldn't imagine it getting any better than that.

Now, he had a… _definitely not a date_ to get ready for, and he had just enough time to get home and ready and head back out again.

He felt like he hadn't been this happy in weeks. Even before the incident with Bruce. 

Bruce made him happy but…this was like…being high on the best drug Steve had ever found. He wanted to sing and smile and celebrate. What he had with Bruce was… _not_ this feeling.

Steve pulled into his driveway and scrubbed his hands through his flaxen hair, blowing out a huge breath. 

_I'm totally fucked._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Personally, I'm incredibly excited to write Steve's definitely not a date with Loki, I hope everyone is excited to read it! Let me know your thoughts so far, or if there's something you'd be interested to see! I'm always eager to read all your comments, good or bad! 
> 
> And if you like this story, please feel free to follow it so you get the updates! I spend way more time than I should writing it
> 
> 💙


	7. Chocolate Death

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The song was heavy and dark, gritty, and dirty. It was sort of slow but nothing like what Steve would have listened to. Somehow it was still kind of…sexy. Steve squirmed a bit as he tried to pretend the song wasn't affecting him in the way it was.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am Trent Reznor this is how I write songs  
> Make all my verses sound like this  
> Then I throw in some random percussion  
> So that you can dance to it  
> Weird guitar!
> 
> Then my voice starts getting louder  
> Then I bring it back down  
> Its almost time to hear the chorus  
> But first let's listen to this weird sound  
> (Weird Sound)  
> ...what the hell was that?
> 
> This is a Trent Reznor song  
> Sometimes it's very long  
> It can go on and on  
> But, it's very awesome
> 
> So this is very late and probably longer than it needed to be. I've been writing and rewriting and adding things in and proofreading like crazy. 
> 
> I apologise if there are any mistakes that I may have missed, I tried to get them all, but to err is human after all. 
> 
> Hopefully everyone enjoys reading this chapter as much as I did writing it! I was heavily influenced by the music I was listening to, which is referenced in the story. If you're interested in the music I chose, I'll link a Spotify playlist for you to listen to! I'll probably be adding to it as write because I tend to use song lyrics quite a lot.
> 
> https://open.spotify.com/playlist/1W5uQM7wbVSedtqsqXRUAb?si=8p2PxG20SMSV3MzetOXCTg
> 
> Anyway, let's get to it!

Steve rushed to shave his face when he got home, then hurried to take a shower, combing his wet hair quickly after he'd jumped out. He rubbed and patted some aftershave onto his face after he'd dried off. It was his best, favorite kind. and hastily headed for his bedroom to decide what to wear. 

He couldn't wear the blue sweater again, it was beginning to smell, and he wanted to dress up a bit for his dinner with Loki.

He decided to wear his favorite button-up shirt, neon blue plaid with vintage-looking yellow lines throughout it. It wasn't his usual style, but he thought Loki might like the "edgier" look. It wasn't actually edgier, but for Steve, it was practically a hand made punk vest. 

Knowing that he still needed a clever way to hide the purple bruise at his throat, he headed to his closet, trying to find the right accessory.

It was chilly autumn and growing colder, so a scarf would work perfectly, and Steve had the perfect one. It had been gifted to him as a joke from some of his colleagues at the precinct. It was an olive sort of green, and it was called a shemagh, and Steve would have never worn it any other time, but tonight just seemed right. 

He moved back to his bedroom, looking in the small mirror that hung on the inside of his wardrobe door, and watched himself carefully wrap it around his neck. Once it had been draped on, it resembled a bandana, but bigger and with fringe details hanging from the edges. The green and yellow complemented the blue in his shirt perfectly, and Steve couldn't help but grin. 

He quickly pulled on a pair of crisp black pants over his clean white briefs and took a good look at himself. 

No bruises showed and his hair looked nice. The split in his lip was something he couldn't fix, but it was healing. He remembered the chapstick Loki had given him and turned to his nightstand, opening it carefully.

It was used, but still, more than half was left in the tube. Steve sniffed it carefully and smiled at the fruity scent. He gingerly swiped it over his lips and rubbed them together before darting the tip of his tongue out to taste it. 

Goosebumps raised across his skin and he felt a little stir in his underwear as he realized that this was what Loki's lips had tasted like in the bar. He replaced the lid on the tube and shoved it into his pants pocket, glancing at his watch and cursing when he saw the time. If he didn't leave now he'd be late, and he couldn't have Loki thinking he'd blown him off. He'd never do anything of the sort. 

He pulled on a pair of white dress socks and rushed for the door, slipping on a pair of brown suede boots that looked nice in the fall. Something in the back of his head told him the style was called chukka, but he ignored it because it didn't matter.

Glancing around, he realized it might be rude to show up without some sort of gift for his host, and he plucked a sunflower from the vase that Bruce had arranged on the table, smiling as he thought about giving it to Loki.

He grabbed his keys from the kitchen counter and picked up his phone, just in time for it to start ringing.

He glanced in surprise at the screen and his blood went cold when he read Bruce's name. He paused in front of his door and stared, watching his phone ring. 

A big part of him didn't want to answer it, still trying to pretend the night before hadn't happened. Another part of him felt guilty immediately. 

He was on his way to dinner with the man that Bruce had beat him over. 

_No._

_Not beat, disciplined,_ he told himself. 

Bruce _wasn't_ abusive.

The part of Steve that was left not guilty or procrastinating knew that if he didn't answer Bruce's call he'd regret it sooner than later. He sighed and cleared his throat, answering the call.

"Hey, honey! How are you?" He asked, forcing a smile into his voice. He had to concentrate on not sounding suspicious, or guilty. He _felt_ guilty.

"Hey, baby. It's nice to hear your voice. Did you have a good day?" Bruce asked, his voice sounding soft and tired. Steve felt guilty at the sound of it, knowing how hard Bruce was working.

"Yes, Sir, I did," Steve answered, opening his door as slowly and quietly as he could, knowing that he had to get going to make it on time. 

"Good. Being a good boy, I hope?" Bruce inquired, his voice still soft, but now with an undertone that sent chills down Steve's spine. 

"Yes Sir," he replied, keeping his voice even as he opened his car door slowly. 

"That's good. Did you see Peter today? I suspect you did with all that free time."

"I did. I bought him a few things to keep him occupied and he really opened up to me today," Steve told Bruce as he sat in his driver's seat. There was a real smile on his face as he recalled it. "He talked to me today for the first time."

Bruce was silent on the other end of the line, and Steve began to feel nervous about what he'd told Bruce. Had he somehow said something wrong?

He cleared his throat after a tense moment and decided to speak again. 

"Brucie? Are you mad at me?" He asked, his voice coming out much smaller than he'd intended. 

"No, honey. I'm really glad you're making such great progress with him. He knows that he's not coming home with you, right? Not for a while?" Bruce asked. 

Steve felt his heart drop into his stomach and he nodded his head. 

"I haven't said anything to him about it. I don't think he knows it's an option for the future yet." A half-truth wasn't a whole lie, right?

"Make sure you really think about that, doll. Make sure it's really what you want," Bruce's voice told him from the other side of the phone. Steve could see the look in Bruce's eyes as he heard the words and he knew they were hard, bordering on cold. 

"Yes Sir. Did…did you have a good day?"

"It's been long," Bruce sighed, and Steve turned the key in the ignition as he spoke. "Still going. It's going to be an eighteen-hour shift, at least."

"Oh, honey," Steve awed, truly feeling bad for the man. "I'm so sorry."

"It is what it is, Blue. It's not my first time. I will say, though, I wouldn't mind a little foot massage next time I see you," Bruce suggested.

"Of course!" Steve agreed, pulling out of his driveway as he spoke. "Anything you need. I'd love to make you feel better." He heard Bruce smile and it made him smile. His happiness was quickly replaced by guilt when he turned a corner and realized he would be approaching Loki's home soon.

"Have you eaten?" Bruce asked, breaking Steve's thoughts. "You're not very good at that."

"Uh," Steve felt a cold sweat break out on his neck, knowing he'd have to lie _convincingly._ "Yeah, I... actually was going…to a _restaurant_ for dinner tonight. Yeah, I, I kinda want duck." He held his breath and listened to the silence that followed his stumbling statement, hoping Bruce wouldn't ask for too much more information.

"Well…that's good. Not much of a duck fan myself. Too greasy. Are you driving now?"

"I am."

"Okay, well…my break is almost over anyway. I'll let you go. Make sure you eat, I don't want you getting too skinny," Bruce said, though Steve thought he might be joking. 

"Okay, honey. Will you be done soon?" Steve asked curiously. 

"A few more hours, I think. Hopefully, not much more, I'm exhausted. Anyway, get some food and get some good sleep tonight. I can't wait to see you again," Bruce replied. 

"You too, Brucie," Steve smiled, though his heart felt conflicted. He could see Loki's home approaching in the distance. 

"Hey, Steve?" Bruce called softly.

"Yeah?"

"Be a good boy."

"…Yes, Sir."

"I love you."

Steve's eyes widened and his jaw dropped. He couldn't remember Bruce ever having said that before. 

"I…I love you too," Steve forced himself to say softly. He heard Bruce smile again before the line disconnected and he pulled up to Loki's house, pulling into the driveway on the side. 

He took a deep breath and thought about the conversation he'd just had, but he didn't have much time to dwell. 

He was nervous. His stomach was in knots, excitedly flapping butterflies threatening to make him throw up. He took another deep breath and forced himself from the car, locking the door behind him. 

The front door was, obviously, at the front of the house, but the side door was just a few feet away from where he'd parked in the driveway, and he could see the light on in what he presumed to be the kitchen. 

He wasn't sure if it would be impolite to knock at the side door, or if he should head toward the front, but his decision was made when he heard the knob turning on the door beside him. 

"Steve! You made it!" Loki called as the door swung open. Steve turned with wide eyes to see Loki in the door and he had to stop himself from swooning. 

It wasn't that Loki was dressed up, it was just that he looked so _good_ in what he was wearing. 

He still wore the same tight ( _tight_ ) black pants from earlier, but he'd changed his long-sleeved shirt out for a long flowy black tank top, and his feet were bare. His alabaster skin practically glowed in juxtaposition with his clothing.

He had a leather necklace that looked like a collar around his throat. It was thin and simple; plain black with a little metal o-ring dangling from the middle. A few clunky bracelets around his thin wrists clinked together as he moved around the kitchen. 

His shaggy black hair was hanging haphazardly in his green eyes and Steve thought it looked longer than usual, almost brushing against his shoulders.

"Please, come in!" He welcomed, standing aside to let Steve through. Steve watched his eyes glance carefully at Steve's car, then dart around quickly as though he were searching for someone else.

"I'm alone," Steve assured for the second time that day. Loki gave a quick nod, then turned and headed into the kitchen, leaving the door open for Steve. 

Steve quickly crossed the threshold and quietly closed the door behind him.

As soon as he stepped inside, he was greeted by the smell of food cooking and heavy music played quietly from somewhere in the kitchen. An almost overwhelming heat hit Steve and he knew it had to be coming from the vents and not just the stove. Immediately, he realized why Loki was wearing a tank top in the middle of a chilly autumn as he broke into a sweat. 

"Sorry about this but I'm running a little behind. Time got away from me. Seems nothing is actually done yet," Loki explained apologetically, already working with his back toward Steve. 

Steve watched as Loki cut a square of butter and dropped it into a hot pan, swirling it as it already started to melt. He reached to a pile of diced onions on a wooden cutting board and began tossing in a few handfuls, filling the room with delicious sizzling sounds.

"That's not a problem for me. Boy, it's pretty hot in here, huh?" Steve commented awkwardly, taking in his surroundings.

The color scheme was mostly black and white, with a few shamrock green details here and there. Little trinkets lined cupboards and shelves, but they were all twisted versions of normal things; cute little girls with red tails, boys with buttons for eyes, and black cats with unnaturally large grins. Wiccan-looking symbols were painted on things here and there and everything had an over-all creep factor.

The lighting was a bit dim around them and a few candles were lit here and there in the kitchen, flickering shadows across the walls. It wasn't necessarily scary, Steve just wasn't sure if it was the usual decor or if it was something more special.

Steve shivered despite the heat.

"I like it warm," Loki responded by way of answer, sliding to the side to cut more vegetables while the onions cooked. 

"Just how I suspect an incubus would like it," Steve tried to joke, attempting to alleviate his anxiety a bit. 

Loki spun his head over his shoulder, and Steve could see the mischievous grin on his lips. His green eyes flashed brightly, and Steve swallowed hard. 

"Uh, so can I help?" Steve asked, feeling strange and a little rude just standing there doing nothing. He set the sunflower down on the small kitchen table without distracting Loki.

Loki shook his head a bit but got distracted anyway by the onions, dropping his knife quickly to shake the pan again before they could burn. Before he could rush back to the cutting board, Steve stepped in, gripping Loki's shoulder as the man collided with him. 

Loki hadn't expected Steve to move and gasped softly as he ran into the man, looking at him with wide eyes. His hand was already poised to take the knife and Steve took his wrist gently but firmly in his own to stop him.

"Let me help," he insisted. 

Loki's surprised look turned to a soft smile and he slowly slid back over in front of the pan, shaking it again. "Thank you," he replied softly as he reached for a bowl of something that was brown and shriveled looking. He poured some of the small things into the pan, then scooped a bit of garlic from a small jar and spooned a bit into the pan with the rest. "Thor isn't much use in the kitchen, so I'm used to cooking alone," Loki broke the silence.

"Hmm," Steve hummed pleasantly as he began to slice what must have been eggplant into round slices, following what Loki had already done. "What's that brown stuff?" Steve asked as he watched Loki stir the contents of the pan with a wooden spoon. 

"Dried figs. Try," Loki answered, reaching into the bowl and taking one out, holding it up to Steve's lips. 

Steve held back his surprise and opened his mouth, feeling the fruit touch his tongue along with a tiny bit of Loki's finger. His eyes fluttered a bit, but he pulled himself together quickly. He wanted to seem confident, so he didn't let on how excited he truly was. 

"S'good," he smiled around the fruit and knew he couldn't hide the pink blush on his cheeks.

"Good. So, tell me about Peter. How was your visit?"

Steve continued to slice as he talked to Loki, telling him _almost_ everything about the visit. He left out the misunderstanding with the Galway doctor.

"So he liked the books?" Loki asked, reaching into the bowl and popping a fig into his mouth.

"He loved them, but his favorite thing was the doll. You should have seen his face light up," Steve grinned, thinking about the afternoon.

"That's really wonderful news, I'm glad you had such a good visit!"

"Me too. I'm just worried," Steve admitted, grabbing for some zucchini and squash to begin slicing now that he was finished with the eggplant. 

"About what?" 

"He…he asked if I'm his new daddy. I told him I'd love to be his new dad."

"I'm not seeing a problem here," Loki stated as he reached to the side for a plate of thawed duck breasts on the counter.

"But…tonight on the phone with Bruce…"

Loki glanced up at Steve when he trailed off but didn't push him. 

"Still not very supportive, hmm?" Loki guessed. The raven-haired man placed his hand on Steve's pelvis, resting right over his hip bone, and pushed gently, guiding Steve's hips back. It was second nature at this point for Steve to arch his back and lift his ass into the air. Loki then opened one of the drawers in front of the blonde and pulled out a pair of tongs, closing it and moving back to his own space. 

Steve didn't think he could possibly sweat any more than he already was, but when Loki's hand rested right on one of his most favorite erogenous zones, his face and chest turned beat red. Sweat began to drip down his face and into his scarf. When Loki moved away, he quickly stood up straight, hoping Loki hadn't noticed the subservient way he'd automatically offered himself up. 

"Oh Steve," Loki said suddenly, looking at the man with surprised eyes. "Can I take your scarf for you? You're dripping wet, I'm so sorry."

"Uh, no," Steve replied awkwardly, reaching up to hold onto it as though Loki would snatch it away. "I-it's okay. I'll adjust, I'm sure."

"Such a strong man," Loki teased, turning and pulling the chain on the ceiling fan to turn it on. "You do look very nice, but you don't have to be all dressed up for me. Let me go turn the heat down, keep an eye on the pan for one moment?" 

Steve didn't have time to respond before Loki disappeared into the house, presumably to change the temperature. By the time he returned, Steve could already feel cool air blowing from the vents and he breathed a sigh of relief.

"There, it should cool down in just a moment," Loki assured, taking the tongs in hand again and using them to place the pieces of duck into the sizzling pan. "If you could, start arranging those in that glass dish," he pointed to a small casserole dish that was already sprayed with something Steve assumed was non-stick.

Steve nodded and began lining the dish with the vegetables he'd cut, layering them in a pattern. 

"Looks beautiful. Have you made ratatouille before?" Loki asked, reaching for a glass bottle of wine on the counter.

"Actually, I never knew what ratatouille was," Steve laughed, almost done with his vegetables.

"Just fancy vegetable lasagna," Loki replied with an easy smile. He poured a big splash of white wine into the pan, then took a swig straight from the bottle. His cheeks pinked when he realized Steve was watching him do it.

"Wine?" He offered, handing the bottle to Steve.

"No thanks," Steve chuckled, politely refusing the bottle. Loki shrugged and took another gulp before setting the bottle back on the counter near where Steve stood.

"All done," Steve said proudly, looking at the colorful dish he'd made.

"Let's get some parmesan on there and pop it into the oven then," Loki smiled, crossing to the fridge and pulling out a clear container of freshly shredded cheese. It looked way better than the powdery stuff Steve used on his spaghetti.

Steve watched as Loki took a small handful and carefully dusted the top of the vegetables, his long fingers looking deft and nimble. He quickly drizzled some olive oil from a decanter over the whole thing, then took the dish and put it into the oven. It must have been preheating already.

"Now, we reduce the heat on the duck," he said as he did just that. "And we let it simmer while the wine reduces. I hope you're not terribly hungry, It's going to be at least twenty minutes," Loki explained apologetically. 

"Oh, I won't starve," Steve laughed, glancing around him again. "Pretty interesting place you have. It's nice in a…very strange way."

"Well, thanks, that wasn't backhanded at all," Loki laughed genuinely.

"Sorry," Steve grinned sheepishly. "I guess I'm just not used to this kind of… _decor._ "

"Well, I'm sure it isn't for everyone," Loki admitted. "I like to collect unusual things."

"Cute," Steve smiled. The room was beginning to cool down tremendously and Steve tugged at his scarf a bit to let some air in against his throat. 

"So, are you turning green or something?" Loki asked nonchalantly, popping another of the small dried fruits into his mouth. "You don't have to wear your scarf in here."

He turned around and leaned against the counter beside the stove, reaching back to grab the bottle of wine again. 

"Well it, uh…goes with the outfit, you know?" Steve laughed but it was forced. 

"Hmm," Loki hummed as he took another gulp of his wine. He offered it to Steve again, and this time, he accepted, taking a careful mouthful. He leaned into Loki a bit as he handed the bottle back. 

Steve was so close that he could smell the spicy scent on Loki's skin. It was something Steve knew he'd smelled before but couldn't quite place. Without thinking, he leaned closer to Loki's shoulder and took a deep breath in, trying to get a better smell.

When he glanced up at Loki, he realized how close they truly were. Loki looked back down at him, cheeks flushed rosy. Steve couldn't tell if it was from the wine or from the fact that their faces were inches apart.

"You uh, you s-smell really nice," Steve fumbled out, though he didn't move back at all. He glanced at Loki's lips and saw the tip of his pink tongue dart out to wet them before they parted slightly. 

Steve's heart thumped excitedly and before he could think better of it, he slid closer to Loki, closing the gap between them.

He heard Loki gasp softly, but the man didn't move away either, eyes darting from Steve's lips to his eyes. Steve felt his heart begin to race, both excited and nervous. 

He decided to go for it, tilting his head and slowly leaning in with his lips parted. He could feel Loki's body heat against his chest and he could feel his quick, heated little breaths against his cheeks.

Just as Steve thought he'd sealed the deal, Loki turned away so fast that his hair flew out, tickling his nose. 

"I should…do the," Loki blurted out, turning his back toward Steve and grabbing the tongs from the counter again. "Flip the… _thing._ " He began to carefully turn the poultry in the pan over, giving the wine a quick stir.

Steve turned his head away, cheeks flaming red.

"Wow, that's…embarrassing," Steve forced out with a fake laugh. He heard Loki sigh softly, then he spoke gently over his shoulder.

" _Steve_ , I-,"

"I know, I know, just friends. I'm _really_ sorry. I…must have been reading into something that wasn't there."

"I-I…am sorry if you misread the situation." Loki sounded almost professional as he spoke, like he would if he was talking to a-

"Co-workers, you're right. I promise it won't happen again." Steve crossed his arms in front of himself, holding his elbows in a move that almost looked like he was hugging himself.

"I'm sorry, Steven. I didn't mean to-"

"No!" Steve interrupted. "It's me, I'm sorry. Dinner smells delicious," he smiled nervously, taking a step back toward the small table on the opposite wall.

Loki looked unhappy, like he was warring with himself and he didn't know what to do with his face. He turned jerkily to the wine bottle on the counter, then after a moment he opened the cupboard above him and pulled down two wine glasses.

After filling them both, he turned and held one out to Steve.

"Peace offering?" Loki offered sheepishly, holding a glass out. "Let's just forget about it. You can handle being just friends, right?"

Steve smiled and let out a breath of relief and nodded his head.

"Yeah, I'm, I'm good." He accepted the glass of wine and gently clinked it against Loki's, taking a slow sip. "I'm good."

"Okay," Loki grinned, drawing his arm across his chest and holding his wine glass in front of his shoulder. 

Steve's eyes tracked the movement and he smiled a bit as the memory of Loki, tipsy and dancing at the bar resurfaced. 

"So really, what's with the scarf?" Loki asked again, heading toward a chair at the table. Steve followed and sat down opposite him by the door.

The air was cooler now and Steve felt much more comfortable. He wondered if Loki was cold and glanced at the man as he sat down. His lips turned up into a mischievous grin.

"What's with smuggling jellybeans in your shirt?" He teased, hoping he wouldn't miss the mark and offend the brunette.

Loki giggled into his wine glass and shook his head as he set it down on the table. 

"Don't even try to play that with me, scarf boy. It's not my fault you've been bitten by a vampire and won't tell me. You know, if you hide a zombie bite, you're _literally_ the worst kind of person."

Steve was taken aback by Loki's retort, but not in a bad way. His mouth dropped open and his eyes went wide as he sat back a little, laughing.

"Wow! The fangs are _out!_ Reel it in there, kitty cat," he chuckled, taking another gulp of his wine. His head was already starting to feel fuzzy, but he'd be fine as soon as he ate dinner.

He knew he shouldn't, but he couldn't help himself. He stared at Loki, taking in everything from the shaggy, messy black hair that looked soft as silk and just as shiny, to the perfect red of his lips, wet with wine. He glanced at where Loki's shoulders were shivering slightly and saw the goosebumps on his skin, which drew his eyes down to where his nipples were hard and poking through his thin shirt.

His mouth watered as he looked at them, remembering exactly what they'd looked like when Loki had pulled open his shirt. He remembered the sound Loki had made when he'd tugged at one. He could feel himself beginning to stir between his legs and closed his eyes, clearing his throat softly. He adjusted himself a bit, squirming in his chair, holding back hisses and groans as the welts on his back and ass pressed against the chair.

"Baseball, right?" Loki said suddenly, breaking the silence.

"Hmm?" Steve hummed softly, confusion clear on his face.

"Your back. Old baseball injury?"

Had he said it was baseball? Steve thought for sure he'd said football. It was much harder to keep all the lies in order than it was to tell the truth, but no way he'd be doing that any time soon. 

"Yeah, you know, glory days and all that," Steve smiled softly, taking in Loki's worried green eyes.

"You haven't asked Bruce to look at it for you?" The spindly man asked, standing and crossing on quiet feet to Steve's side of the table. "Isn't he a doctor?"

"Oh...he's too busy for that. I don't see him often enough to take the time to ask," Steve told Loki, watching nervously as the man moved behind him.

He felt Loki's cold fingers on his shoulders again and he tensed, worried about how he'd hide it when Loki was looking right at it. He realized his scarf would cover his neck and keep Loki from peering down his shirt, he just had to make sure the man didn't lift it up. 

"Here," Loki stated as he began to knead and press at Steve's muscles. Aside from the superficial sting against his welts, Loki's cold hands felt like magic on his tight shoulders. 

A moan escaped Steve's throat and his face turned beat red as he realized how pornographic it sounded. Thankfully, Loki just giggled and began working his way down Steve's spine. 

"You're so tight, Steven," Loki remarked, and Steve blushed again, knowing he'd heard that before in a different context. "Look, dinner is done. How about we eat and then I give you a little rub-down? Completely professional, I worked in a massage parlor for a while. What do you say?" 

"Oh, no," Steve laughed, shaking his head. "I couldn't ask you to do that."

"You didn't ask," Loki reminded Steve. "I did. I'm happy to do it. I know how stressful things are for you right now."

Steve smiled at Loki as he turned around and crossed back to the stove, turning off the burner and the oven. He was worried about Loki trying to take his shirt off for a few reasons.

Mainly, he didn't want to have to talk about Bruce for any reason at all, knowing it would ruin the pleasant mood that they'd been able to salvage. Also, Steve was _positive_ he'd pop wood if Loki touched his bare skin that much in a way that would definitely feel sensual. 

While he couldn't deny that he still felt very attracted to the man, he didn't want to lose his growing friendship over a silly infatuation.

He sighed and watched Loki for a few moments, letting his mind wander a bit as the petite man pulled on some black oven mitts and opened the oven. He bent over to pull out the glass dish and Steve let himself get an eyeful of pert, heart-shaped ass. 

Loki gracefully stood and placed the dish carefully on the range, moving the pan to the opposite burner. He then moved to the side and reached up to bring out some plates. 

The plates were shiny black with swirls of inky white throughout and instead of being round, they were square.

Steve sipped his wine as he gazed at Loki's back, imagining running his hands over the thin material of his shirt, touching as he pleased.

"Fuck," Steve muttered, finishing his wine and setting down the flute.

"Everything okay?" Loki called, glancing over his shoulder at the blonde.

"Yeah, just…too much to drink. I suppose I should learn from my mistakes," Steve chuckled, rapping his knuckles against the table lightly before taking a sharp breath in. "Can I help you?" Steve added, changing the subject before Loki could ask him what he meant. 

"Nope," he replied with a smile, turning around with two dishes already plated prettily. He'd somehow made the layered vegetables twist into a little circle, like a volcano, and had then placed the duck on top.

"Wow, this looks amazing! Thank you so much," Steve smiled feeling sheepish again. "Sorry I couldn't have helped more."

"Pish. Don't worry about that, I asked you over here to have dinner with me, not to _cook_ dinner with me. I do appreciate your help though." He set a plate down in front of Steve and then went back to the seat opposite him. 

Loki picked up the wine bottle and refilled Steve's glass, and as he leaned over, Steve got a great look down his loose shirt at his torso. When Loki pulled back to top off his own glass, Steve looked away quickly, pretending he hadn't been looking at all.

"You know, you don't have to keep it so cool in here just for me," Steve mentioned again, feeling guilty as he noticed the goosebumps on Loki's arms. 

"It's alright. I'll likely warm up once we eat. Try it! Tell me what you think!" Loki prodded, taking his fork in hand and putting a small slice of zucchini in his mouth. 

Steve smiled and nodded, taking a deep breath. He really needed to stop objectifying Loki's body and start being a good friend, attraction or not.

Steve picked up his fork and knife and cut a small piece of the poultry and a bit of yellow squash and put them both in his mouth.

"Tastes…nothing like chicken," Steve tried to joke. He grinned as he waited eagerly for Loki to smile in response and when he did, he heard himself giggle a little. "It's really good! It tastes more like beef, which is kinda weird."

Loki's lips curled up on the ends in a way that made Steve think of felines again and he suppressed another chuckle as he imagined the raven-haired man with black ears and whiskers. 

"As I said, it's one of Thor's favorites. I like it alright but it's a little too greasy to eat too often," Loki admitted, cutting another small bite as he spoke. 

"So what's your favorite?" Steve asked, taking another bite as well. 

"Lemon garlic buttered salmon, grilled with asparagus on the side." He looked off into the air as though he were imagining it while he said it and again, Steve was surprised by the simple magic he could see in the man's eyes. 

"Sounds delicious. Maybe I'll make that for you someday soon."

Loki smiled and sipped his wine, curling his pinky around the stem. Steve practically swooned when Loki held it against his chest, almost his shoulder. 

It was such a dumb thing to notice about the man, but Steve did nonetheless. 

They ate in pleasant quiet for a few moments as Loki's music continued to play in the background. The speaker had to be somewhere in the kitchen. Steve pretended he wasn't watching the man fondly as he listened to the lyrics being sung into the room. 

_  
I want your rough house baby  
I want this right in your ear  
You let me feel your danger  
I let you make this feeling clear here  
I want the touch of your charms  
The heat of your breath  
I want to say all those things  
That would be better unsaid_

The song was heavy and dark, gritty, and dirty. It was sort of slow but nothing like what Steve would have listened to. Somehow it was still kind of…sexy. Steve squirmed a bit as he tried to pretend the song wasn't affecting him in the way it was. 

_But you're too physical, physical to me  
You're just too physical oh  
You're too physical for me  
You're too-_

"Is the music bothering you? I put on my tamest playlist so I wouldn't scare you," Loki teased, looking at Steve pointedly.

"No!" Steve turned bright red, taking a sip of his wine. "No, no, I just…never heard something like this before."

"I can change it-" 

"It's fine. Uh, so Loki?" Steve asked, realizing he sounded like a nervous kid as he heard it come out of his mouth. "Wanna…play a game?"

"Like Saw? I have a weak stomach," Loki grinned, watching Steve's face turn redder. 

"I meant like, twenty questions," Steve admitted, not feeling any less juvenile. He watched Loki's well-manicured eyebrows quirk up in interest and he subconsciously leaned forward. 

"Okay, this should be fun. You go first," Loki agreed. He drew his long legs up under himself and sat with them crossed beneath him.

"Okay," Steve paused and thought about it for a moment. "What is something that I don't know about you?"

"Just about everything, sweetheart," Loki replied cheekily. Steve laughed out loud and shook his head.

"Seriously," Steve prodded. "Answer or drink," he smirked, motioning to Loki's glass.

"Ah, so we're playing the fun way I see," Loki purred with renewed fire in his eyes. "I'll bite. I like to practice yoga. Did you know that?" He asked, popping a bit of eggplant in his mouth.

"I didn't, but I can totally see you doing yoga," Steve responded, giving Loki a quick once over again.

"Alright, my turn!" Loki chirped, clapping his hands together quickly but quietly. "Alright, let me see…" Loki trailed off as he turned his eyes up, as though he were looking at his own thoughts. His eyelashes looked so long when he did that.

"Ah! Got one. What was the worst dream you've ever had?" Loki asked, sipping his wine again. 

"Well," Steve thought. "Probably the night we had to let James go back to Clint. I could barely sleep, but when I did, it was the most terrifying nightmares. I just kept seeing him hurt. It was awful. I still have those dreams every once in a while."

The two men sat quietly for a moment as they each thought about what Steve had admitted. The song from before had ended and another began to play softly. 

"I'm sorry if I brought up bad memories," Loki apologized. "Leave it to me to ruin a good time."

"You didn't, I'm fine. I could have drank," Steve pointed out.

"True. And, though it's really awful, I have to admit…James is lucky to have you. Peter is as well."

 _You could have me, too_ Steve thought but didn't say.

"Your turn," Loki said softly.

Steve thought for a moment, realizing most of the questions he wanted to ask were probably going to be inappropriate. If he wanted to know, he'd have to ask anyway.

"Tell me about your most recent romantic encounter."

This time Loki's cheeks pinked and his eyes widened. Steve watched him move his glass toward his mouth, considering drinking instead of answering.

"Is that too far?" Steve asked sheepishly, hoping he hadn't upset him. Loki paused and shook his head slowly. He then shrugged his shoulders in response to something that seemed to be internal.

"My most recent romantic encounter," Loki repeated, looking down at his half-empty plate. "It wasn't very romantic. I found someone with a nice face on a hook-up app…invited them here."

Steve waited patiently for Loki to finish.

"He barely got through the door before he was bending me over the side of my couch and having his way. It's not like I didn't want it, don't get me wrong, but…he fucked the shit out of me and he didn't even make sure I _got off_ before he left. He just…got his rocks off and… _left_."

_You’ve got your  
Hell’s teeth  
Smiling at you  
It keeps your brain safe  
As it all eats at your face  
And don’t worry  
We’ll blur it out  
And no one  
Ever will know  
Oh_

They sat in silence again, listening to the new song that played. The singer's voice was soft and very raspy sounding. Both of them were painted red in embarrassment before Steve finally broke the silence.

"I'm…really sorry that happened to you. I-I would never-" Steve's eyes went wide again and he cleared his throat awkwardly as he realized what he'd been about to say.

"Never what?" Loki chuckled, eager to change the subject. "Never leave me sexually unsatisfied?"

Steve thought hard about the appropriate response, but the wine was making his head fuzzy. He decided to be honest.

"Never. I'd never leave you unsatisfied." He peered steadily into Loki's eyes as he spoke. 

His free hand immediately went to a hard nipple, tweaking it for just a second as he squirmed in his chair. He let out a hot sounding breath and cleared his throat softly. Loki tried to hide the response he had, but Steve caught him getting flustered before he could pull himself under control. 

_Pump in the laughter  
Of dead audience applause  
And teenage rape candidates  
I think we got ourselves  
A real hit_

"Well…thank you, Steven. I…appreciate your _candor_."

_Don’t we wish  
That we could feel something  
More than  
Hate and morbid panic_

"Just…being honest," Steve mumbled, looking down at his plate and sliding some of the vegetables that were left around on the plate. "I uh, think it's your turn."

"Alright. Well, I say let's play fair. How was your last sexual encounter?"

" _Romantic_ ," Steve reminded, face flushing to the top of his ears. 

"Either way. Let's hear it."

"Uh," Steve stalled. "The last…last romantic thing that happened was my… _date_ with Bruce. We went out for dinner-"

"You told him about…"

"Yeah."

"You never told me what actually happened. Did he yell?" 

"No, he flirted with our pubescent waiter the entire time, talked down to me, and then when I told him, he poured a glass of water in my lap and humiliated me, right before leaving me by myself, soaked."

Loki's jaw dropped and he quickly looked away, taking another mouthful of wine to keep himself from saying anything too quickly.

"Wow. Uh…okay. And you're still with him?"

"I mean, yeah. He's a good man and a good partner. I can't act like I didn't deserve what he did, it was my fault."

"Regardless of what happened, he still has no right to treat you that way."

"Yeah. Y'know, I don't really want to talk about Bruce right now. I believe it's my turn, and I do have one more question."

Loki pushed his plate away from himself and sat back to listen. 

"Why don't you want a relationship?"

"Why are you concerned?" Loki shot back.

"Nope, it's my turn. Answer or drink."

"I just don't, Steven. There's too much heartbreak involved. Everyone always asks too much of me and then leaves in the end. It's not worth it. Happy?" 

"Not remotely. What happened to you?"

"It's actually my turn-"

"Game's over. Talk to me, what happened? Who hurt you so badly?"

"It's nothing for you to be concerned about-"

"I just want to try to help," Steve implored, pushing his own plate aside and leaning forward toward the slight man. "Please let me in? We're friends, right?"

Loki let out a huge, exasperated sigh and scrubbed his hand over his face. 

"Fine, if you must know. I had a… _relationship_. Long term. We were together for a long time, and, _I thought_ , happy. I wasn't ready to come out with our relationship and he wanted me to meet the family. I couldn't do it and it was a deal-breaker for him. He left me. I thought I found the one...I was wrong. Now I don't bother with feelings. If I need someone for a night, they're just a click away on my cellphone, and I don't ask for more than that."

"But the last guy used you. You weren't even satisfied."

"Sometimes life isn't satisfying, Steven." Loki stood and began calmly collecting their plates and utensils, crossing the kitchen to set them into the sink. Steve assumed he'd scrape them off later.

They sat for another few moments, neither of them knowing what to say. Eventually, Loki opened the fridge, pulling out a round pan. 

"I made dessert. Chocolate mousse pie?" Loki offered, pulling the lid off the container and showing Steve. 

It was beautiful; fluffy looking chocolate cream drizzled with chocolate sauce and sprinkled with chocolate shavings in what looked like a chocolate crust with drops of whipped cream around the edge.

"No, thank you, maybe later. I'm still pretty full from dinner, which was delicious, by the way. I'm not used to eating so much at one time." Steve took another look and grinned. "Did you make that? It looks like chocolate death."

Loki's ears turned red, but he smiled as he set the pie on the counter. 

"I made it this morning. And I told you, I have a sweet tooth."

"You _are_ a sweet tooth," Steve jibed. 

"Mind if I have a slice?" Loki asked over his shoulder at Steve, already poised to grab a plate.

"Please, by all means," Steve smiled, sitting back to watch once again. Of course he'd love to watch Loki indulge in some chocolate. 

Loki stood up on his tiptoes gracefully, almost like a dancer, and he reached up into his tall cupboard to pull down a smaller version of the plates they'd had dinner on. 

"Sure you don't want one?" Loki asked again, still on his toes. 

"I'm okay, thanks," Steve repeated politely.

Loki dropped back onto his heels, setting the plate on the counter and reaching for a clean butter knife to slice the pie with. 

He set a thin slice onto his plate a moment later, licking the mousse from his finger when he had, humming to himself happily.

"I'm uh, really sorry about what happened. You know that one bad experience shouldn't-"

"It's fine. I've moved on with my life. No skin off my teeth," Loki cut him off, taking a tiny bite of his pie. "At least I don't have someone leaving dirty clothes all over the floor and clean clothes all over the bed any longer."

Steve watched as Loki got lost in his thoughts, his head hanging low as he stood with his back still to Steve. Finally, he sighed and let out a little huff of a laugh.

"Bunch of sorry fellas we are right now," he smiled over his shoulder, though it was sad looking.

"We don't have to be," Steve stated suggestively.

Loki turned and lifted himself nimbly onto the counter, watching Steve through narrowed eyes.

"What is it that makes you so persistent?" He asked with a sly smile. Steve wondered how intoxicated he was feeling in comparison to himself, which was a lot.

"I don't mean to be. It's just the way I am, I guess. I'm sorry if it bothers you, or makes you uncomfortable, but…I suppose it's hope. 

The dark-haired man didn't respond as he reached next to him and scooped a smear of chocolate onto his finger, popping it into his mouth and sucking it off as he thought.

Just then the song changed again, crashing through the speakers like a freight train with no warning. Steve jumped and he realized that he'd been watching Loki eating his pie with his finger a little too intently.

Loki laughed out loud at Steve's response and began to sway to the music where he sat on the counter. 

_Gave up trying to figure it out and my head got lost along the way  
Worn out from giving it up and my soul I pissed it all away_

The man screamed the lyrics as though he couldn't hold back his emotions, and Steve actually really liked the way it sounded.

_Still stings these shattered nerves  
Pigs we get what pigs deserve  
I'm going all the way down I'm leaving today_

Steve's lips tilted into a grin and he realized that if he was going to take a shot, it had to be now.

He stood slowly and began to cross the kitchen toward where Loki sat on the counter. The fairer man was still scooping the cream from the shell of his pie and licking it off his finger. 

He paused with his finger loaded and halfway to his mouth when he noticed Steve approaching.

"You want a piece?" Loki offered again, already turning toward the pie that still sat on the counter behind him. Steve gently gripped Loki's wrist, catching the slender man off guard, and the blonde heard him gasp softly. 

"Maybe just a little taste," Steve replied, voice soft and as close to sultry as he could get.

_Still feel it all slipping away but it doesn't matter anymore  
Everybody's still chipping away but it doesn't matter anymore_

Steve watched Loki's face intently and when the man didn't move, he pulled Loki's hand toward himself, sticking his tongue out to welcome Loki's finger inside. 

_Look through these blackened eyes  
You'll see ten thousand lies  
My lips may promise but my heart is a whore_

Steve watched the shock cross Loki's face, quickly followed by the sexual response. Loki moaned breathily, no doubt trying to hide the sound. His face turned dark pink and the blush spread down his long graceful neck and onto his chest. He pressed his thighs together and squirmed and Steve could hear his breathing deepen and speed up. 

_Come come come on you've gotta fix me up  
Come come gotta let me inside of you  
Come come come on you gotta fill me up  
Come come gotta let me get through to you_

Steve decided to go a step further before letting go of Loki's finger. He closed his eyes and moaned loudly, pressing Loki farther inside his mouth. He'd never sucked a cock before, but he was sure going to pretend he knew how now. 

He slurped at Loki's digit, bobbing his head slowly up and down as he continued to moan. He peeked up at the man and saw that he was struggling to hold it together. Loki had gripped the bottom of his thin tank top with his free hand and was pressing his fist between his legs. Steve wasn't sure if it was to hide an erection, provide himself something to grind against, or both. Finally, he pulled off Loki's finger.

"Delicious," he moaned, looking intently at Loki. The brunette man seemed to war with himself internally, his hand floating above Steve's shoulder like he wanted to grip him tightly. He scooted forward toward Steve a tiny bit at a time, his legs spreading wider with each movement, but he still didn't touch.

Steve couldn't help himself. He surged forward with his lips parted, stopping when they were so close that their lips just barely touched. Neither of them would close the distance, but Steve could tell that they both wanted to.

_I know it's all getting away it comes to me as no surprise  
I know what's coming to me is never going to arrive_

"Steve," Loki finally whispered, his breath hitching. 

Steve let his hands rest above Loki's knobby kneecaps and slowly slid them up to his thighs, touching the soft inner part of his legs smoothly. 

"Yeah?"

_Fresh blood through tired skin  
New sweat to drown me in  
Dress up this rotten carcass just to make it look alive_

"Make me a promise," Loki whispered, and Steve could feel his fingertips daring to touch just a little bit in his hair and on his shoulder.

"What? Anything."

"Promise me that you can do this with no feelings."

_Come come come on you've gotta fill me up_

"I can do it," Steve whispered back.

_Come come gotta let me inside of you_

"Promise me that you will not catch feelings and that this is going to be sex for the sake of great sex."

_Come come come on you're gotta fix me up_

"I promise."

_Come come gotta let me get through to you_

"Promise me that if this ruins your relationship with Bruce, you won't blame it on me. I tried-"

"I promise. I promise that I won't get attached or expect anything from you. I promise to make you come and I promise that if you need more, I'll do my best to deliver it to you."

Loki paused before he burst forward, claiming Steve's mouth with his own eager one, pressing his hips forward until he could grind against Steve and wrap his legs around his torso. 

Steve could taste sweet chocolate and bitter wine in his mouth.

Everything became a whirlwind around them, hands roaming greedily, tongues licking and teeth biting. Every movement was frenzied and fueled by pent-up lust, chocolate, and heavy metal. 

_This isn't meant to last  
This is for right now  
This isn't meant to last  
This is for right now  
This-_

Steve pulled Loki from the counter, still attached at the lips, and he began moving toward somewhere more comfortable when he realized he had no idea where anything was in Loki's home. Loki was grinding against him frantically and Steve knew if he didn't make a decision soon, he'd end up fucking up the mood. 

_This isn't meant to last  
This is for right now_

He quickly crossed the kitchen, falling into the chair that Loki had sat at while they'd eaten dinner, Loki securely in his lap. 

The petite man wasted no time, standing quickly and beginning to unbutton his black pants. Steve watched eagerly, excited to see everything that Loki was willing to show him.

He turned as he slid his pants down his legs, letting Steve get an eyeful of his silk and lace devil-red panties. Steve didn't even try to suppress the groan that escaped him. 

"Fuck, you're so gorgeous," Steve moaned, reaching to grab a handful of the ass he'd been staring at all night. Loki giggled and turned around, swatting Steve's hands away to get closer to the man. 

He pushed Steve back hard into the chair and began to unfasten Steve's black pants, pulling them open and yanking them down Steve's thighs with more strength than Steve expected. 

He quickly sat up a bit, helping Loki pull his pants down around his thighs, then reached for his underwear, pausing before he could pull out his cock. 

_This isn't meant to last  
This is for right now_

"Don't be shy, Steven, we're already this far," Loki teased, watching eagerly to see what Steve had hidden in his pants. 

Steve licked his lips and nodded slightly, pulling out his partially hard member, looking up at Loki like he was waiting for approval. He ignored the sharp pain across his ass from his bare skin touching the chair.

Loki moaned receptively and reached his soft cool fingers to feel it, squeezing a little as he smiled. 

"That's very nice, Steven. Are you ready?"

_This isn't meant to last  
This is for right now_

Steve nodded his head fast, wondering internally if he really was ready for this. Once this happened, there was no going back. He'd have _actually_ cheated on Bruce, and he would have to keep it a secret for both his safety and Loki's.

"I'm ready."

_This isn't meant to last  
This is for right now_

"No feelings."

"No feelings, just sex," Steve repeated eagerly, already holding his hands out to invite Loki back into his lap. 

Loki quickly climbed atop Steve, pressing himself as close to Steve's body as he could, before he reached behind himself and moved his panties aside. 

Steve gripped his hips tightly, loving the feeling of the thin man between his fingers. His body was small, but still muscular. He was lanky and graceful and just so different from Bruce.

Steve took a deep breath as Loki's deft fingers gripped his length again and he looked up into Loki's eyes as he prepared himself.

"Do you need some lube, or-" Steve began to offer. Loki chuckled and licked his hand sloppily, reaching behind himself and wrapping his wet hand around Steve, slicking him up. 

Before Steve could react, he felt Loki's tight entrance pressing against the head of his cock and he took a sharp breath in, his eyes losing focus. He wrapped his arms around Loki's torso and leaned his head against the man's chest, waiting for the inevitable squeeze.

_I wish I could put the blame on you  
I want you to make me  
I want you to take me  
I want you to break me_

"Sure you're okay?" Loki chuckled breathlessly, holding Steve's head against his chest, fingers carding through his fluffy blonde hair. Steve could feel Loki's legs shaking with anticipation.

Steve turned his nose up, pressing it into Loki's throat. 

"I'm ready," he repeated. "I've just never done it this way," he admitted. 

"In a chair?" Loki quipped easily, already beginning to sink down onto Steve's length. A surprised sound punched its way out of Steve's chest and he didn't respond, focusing solely on the sensations he was being given. 

His fingers dug into Loki's waist as he felt the head of his cock press inside of the man, a few more inches following quickly after. His forehead broke out in a sweat and he panted laboriously.

"Holy shit," he whispered. "It's like a fucking _vice_.

Loki didn't stop until he was fully seated on Steve's lap, then he paused. 

"Wait, are you saying you've never gotten your dick wet?" 

Steve panted for a minute before he laughed, opening his eyes and leaning back a bit to look up at Loki. 

"I'm not a _virgin_ ," he huffed, still clutching Loki's waist tight enough to hurt. "I've just never… _in a man._ "

"Ugh," Loki groaned, tilting his head back. "God that's so hot. Stevie, I'm gonna fuck you now, okay?" 

_I want you to make me  
I want you to take me  
I want you to break me  
Then I want you to throw me away_

"Yes, god yes," Steve agreed, wrapping his arms around Loki's waist, preparing for the ride. 

Loki started the pace fast, beginning to gyrate and snap his hips back and forth rhythmically. He gripped Steve's shoulders and rode him for all he was worth, tossing his hair to the side and closing his eyes, chasing his own high. 

" _Fuck,_ I knew your dick would be fucking amazing," Loki sighed, eyes still shut tightly. "Who knew you'd be a service top, hmm?" Loki chuckled, drawing his legs up onto the chair beside Steve and bouncing up and down hard. 

"Oh, Jesus," Steve groaned, beginning to see stars. "Good Lord, the fireworks," he whispered.

"Awe, fireworks, huh?" Loki asked playfully, seeming to still be almost completely in control of himself. 

By now the song had changed, but over their panting, whining, and moaning, Steve could barely even hear the melody. 

Steve's attention was caught when he saw Loki reach under his long tank top, stroking and tugging at his cock, which Steve had yet to see. 

"Can I see that baby?" He asked sweetly, reaching to lift Loki's shirt out of the way of his view. 

"Don't," Loki said sharply, slapping Steve's hand away. His face flushed when Steve's lips parted in surprise, and his pace faltered, but didn't stop. He quickly glanced away, still riding Steve expertly. 

"Loki," Steve forced out, torn between letting Loki continue and the logic that was trying to penetrate his alcohol-soaked brain. He gripped Loki's hips firmly and overpowered him, forcing him to a stop. "Loki," he repeated.

"What's the matter, you getting too close?" Loki asked, still not making eye contact. 

"Look, we probably should have talked about this before but…"

"What's the matter?" Loki whined, beginning to struggle with Steve to move his hips again. 

"Are you clean?" Steve finally asked, looking embarrassed.

"What?" Loki laughed as though what Steve had said was preposterous. 

"A-are you…clean? You won't let me see it, and…" he trailed off, hoping he wasn't blowing his one shot with the object of his lust. 

"I'm clean, Steven. I'm very careful. You are as well, I trust? It's just…it's not very impressive, that's all." Loki looked embarrassed too, and it seemed like maybe their fun was coming to a premature end. 

"What, like it's small? That's okay, you don't have to be embarrassed. I'd still love to play with it. I wanna make you feel good," Steve assured the fairer man. 

"How about next time?" Loki offered shyly.

"Next time? You think there can be a next time?" Steve asked hopefully. 

"We'll see. Look, why don't we focus on right now, hm? You are currently at least six inches inside me and I'd really like to follow up on that at the moment. Can we please do that?"

Steve chuckled and felt himself relax. 

"Alright. How about we move to somewhere more comfortable and you let me be on top?" 

"No bedroom. I'll fuck you on the couch," Loki stated decidedly, dropping his feet back to the floor and standing smoothly. He pulled his panties back into place and turned for the door of the kitchen, pausing to look back at Steve. 

"Coming?" He asked coyly, knowing that Steve was focusing on nothing but his ass and the way the lace of his underwear cut high on his cheeks. 

"I sure hope so," Steve answered, following Loki like a dog being teased with a treat. He didn't pay too much attention to the decor this time, watching the way Loki's ass swayed as he walked instead. 

They walked down a short hallway and took a left into a spacious living room. Steve quickly caught up to Loki, gripping his hips again, this time from behind. He pulled the back of Loki's shirt up and moaned as he looked down at the dimples on his lower back.

"God, you're so fucking beautiful," he sighed, slapping lightly at the man's ass. 

"And you're still completely dressed. Don't you want to at least take off that silly scarf?" Loki asked, pulling away from Steve's hands and laying temptingly down on the couch. 

He lay on his stomach and spread his legs apart, looking back at Steve with the biggest green doe eyes he'd ever seen.

Steve felt his gut twist a bit, knowing he really couldn't take much of anything off if he didn't want to field a barrage of questions. 

"I guess I can take off my pants but…the underwear are staying on," he conceded. He quickly shimmied his way out of his black pants and eagerly draped himself over Loki's back. He felt his scarf slip loose and shoved it quickly out of the way. He couldn't wait until he didn't have to wear the annoying thing. 

He kissed and licked at Loki's shoulders, touching lightly against his neck and sides until he felt Loki shiver and knew he was ready again. 

"Turn over. I want to watch you when you come."

Loki giggled and let Steve manhandle his body until he was facing Steve. 

Steve couldn't hold back his huge smile, looking down at a nearly naked Loki beneath him, ready to be pleasured. 

"Will you take off your panties, honey? Please can I take them off?" Steve begged, hands already trailing up Loki's milky thighs. 

Loki sighed and pulled his shirt down lower, reaching beneath it to pull down his red underwear. 

"Fine, but the shirt stays on," he agreed, spreading his legs as he waited for Steve to enter him again. "Just fuck me, Steven, I need it," he whined, wriggling beneath the blonde. 

Steve grinned and pulled his underwear down, releasing his hard cock once again. "Ready?" He asked, already leaning over Loki. He felt his scarf slip again and once again, he pushed it back. 

"I'm ready, come on," Loki smiled, tilting his hips up a bit. 

Steve grabbed Loki around his thighs, noting how his hands went almost all the way around them and lifted Loki's ass into the air. The man was careful to hold his shirt down to cover himself, but Steve wasn't going to push for more. 

He reached his hand forward and petted his finger against Loki's stretched pink hole before pressing inside and drawing a whine from Loki. 

"Light my fireworks, Steven," Loki moaned with a smile, clearly enjoying his time with the blonde. 

Steve quickly pulled his finger from inside Loki and replaced it with his cock, pressing inside slowly. This time, he set the pace himself, snapping his hips against Loki and enjoying all the sounds that fell from his mouth. 

"Ooohh, god yes, please. Fuck me, daddy!" He yelped as Steve hit his prostate. Steve's eyes went wide but he didn't stop, knowing that he had the smaller man close already. 

"That's it, baby, come for… _daddy_ ," Steve said nervously, hoping Loki wouldn't laugh. 

"Oh, yes! I'm gonna come for you! Harder, please!" Loki cried, writhing in pleasure beneath Steve. 

Steve let loose, feeling his own fireworks getting ready to ignite and he pounded into Loki, slapping sounds echoing around the living room just barely heard over Loki's screams of pleasure. He didn't notice when his scarf finally slipped off his neck, sliding down between their bodies and easily forgotten for the moment. 

Finally, Steve felt Loki's walls tighten around him, signaling his impending release and he did his best to thrust his hips harder and faster, dragging Loki over the edge. 

"Fuck!" Loki screamed as he threw his head back, squeezing his cock through his clothes. Steve felt his walls begin to spasm, fluttering tighter and looser as he reached his big finish and Steve just couldn't hold back his own. 

He shot hard inside of Loki, filling him, pressing deep, doing his best to hold back his groans of pleasure.

They both lay quietly, panting hard once they'd finished, and Steve was the first to break the silence. 

He began to laugh out loud, unable to hold back his pleasure at finally getting what he'd been fantasizing about.

"What's so funny?" Loki asked through his hard breathing. His hair was askew and his chest was splotched red. 

"It's just…life is crazy sometimes," Steve grinned, looking down at where Loki was still impaled on his cock. "Satisfying sometimes, you might say?" Steve teased hopefully. 

" _Very_ satisfying. I needed that so bad," Loki admitted, sitting up and pulling himself off of Steve's dick. "So…ready for a slice of pie?" Loki chuckled, face flushing pink. 

Steve laughed out loud and looked back down at Loki's legs, his thighs now a mess of come that was likely Steve's own. 

"How about I help you get cleaned up first?" He offered politely. 

Loki shook his head to decline the offer and reached over to the coffee table beside the couch, pulling open a drawer and grabbing a pack of baby wipes. 

"I'm prepared," Loki informed Steve, beginning to clean first himself and then Steve. 

Steve groaned as Loki gently wiped off his hypersensitive cock, enjoying the special attention. Loki then reached to the floor and picked up his red panties, sliding them back up his legs. He stopped and turned to look at Steve, eyes hooded and pupils dilated. His mouth wore a tiny, satisfied grin.

Loki's face quickly morphed into something closer to shock, his eyes going huge as he drew in a sharp breath. Steve saw Loki's face change and his own eyes grew wide. He whipped his head around to look behind him, thinking Loki might have seen something. 

Seeing no one there, he turned back to Loki quizzically. "Everything okay?" Steve asked softly. Loki moved a graceful hand over his mouth and Steve could see tears shining in his eyes. "You're kinda scaring me here," Steve chuckled nervously. 

Loki glanced down at the couch quickly and spotted the scarf right away, gingerly picking it up to show Steve.

"Shit!" Steve yelped, clapping his hand over his neck in a poor attempt to hide the giant bruise at his throat. "No! It's-it's not, it's not w-what you think-!"

"I didn't do that to you," Loki murmured, eyes glued to the deep, dark bruise. 

"What? No! No, you didn't do…look, it's nothing!" Steve rambled, face burning red again. 

"Look, I know I gave you a hickey but...He's hurting you," Loki stated, eyes still wide with shock. 

Steve froze mid-scramble and stared at Loki with nervous blue eyes. "No!" He finally replied, not sounding convincing at all.

"No, don't try to feed me that shit Steve. I'm a police officer, too. You think I can't see the abuse?"

"No, you don't understand!" Steve tried, reaching to take the scarf from Loki's hand. His voice rose an octave embarrassingly, but he ignored it. 

"No!" Loki shouted, twisting away from Steve's hands. "You need to show me. Take your clothes off and show me right now!" He demanded. 

"Loki, there's nothing-"

"There is! You've been lying to me!" Loki insisted, anger clear on his face. "Your stupid sports injury? That was _him_ , wasn't it? He's hurting you, and you didn't **_tell me?!_** " Loki screamed. 

Steve fell silent, sitting back on his haunches as he looked at Loki's furious face. He didn't want to admit to himself that Loki's anger triggered the same fear that Bruce's did. 

"How dare you look at me with a busted lip and tell me it was an accident! How dare you tell me it's an old injury!" Loki continued to hiss. Tears were now streaming down his face and Steve wasn't sure how to feel about it. 

"I-I'm sorry!" Steve breathed out nervously, his hand already rising on its own to defend himself if need be. "Please, you have to understand, I can't tell anyone about this!"

"Because he'd hurt you more?!" Loki shrieked.

"No, please, you don't understand! He isn't beating me!" Steve pleaded again, willing Loki to understand. 

"Did…did you ask for this?" Loki asked, growing more confused. He reached forward with long careful fingers and slid them softly under Steve's shirt, at the collar. "Is this some kind of BDSM thing?" He seemed to be calming down a bit and Steve was thankful for it. 

"N-not exactly…" Steve trailed off, glad that Loki was calming down. "It was just…a punishment. For ch…cheating," Steve blushed as he said it, realizing that the punishment for this night would be so much worse than the first if Bruce ever found out. 

Loki sat up as Steve spoke and pulled Steve's shirt away from his skin to peer down the fabric at Steve's back. A little gasp caught in his throat at the sight of the angry red welts. 

"So wait, let me get this right. He humiliated you, _in public_ , then took you home and beat the shit out of you. And you're alright with that?" 

Steve was growing more and more frustrated with hearing the truth from Loki, having what happened put into perspective for him. He hated to hear Bruce being spoken of this way. 

"No, Bruce is a good man! He would never just _hurt_ me, he loves me!" He defended. 

"Really? Because you just persuaded your way inside me, fully intending to lie to him about it," Loki pointed out. 

Steve broke down into sobs, unable to hold them back. "What do you want from me?!" He demanded, voice breaking. "I can't have you! I want you so _bad_ , Loki! But you just want to be sad and lonely. Bruce? He _wants_ me! Why shouldn't I stay with him?"

"He's hurting you-"

"I deserved it. And I'd deserve it again for being here tonight. I wouldn't stop him if he found out and chose to hurt me instead of leaving me. I'd be lucky."

"Jesus, Steven. That's probably the most awful thing I've ever heard," Loki replied sadly. "You deserve better than either of us. Don't you understand that?"

"I don't deserve anything. I'm happy with what I have, even if it isn't much."

Loki's face screwed up in disgust and horror and he shook his head as he gathered himself together. 

"Why are you here?" He finally asked in a whisper. 

"I…" Steve began, coming up blank in his mind. "I just…really want you in my life. I-I know that…you don't _want_ me, but…I…I don't want you to forget that I'm here. Ready for you."

There was silence for a few minutes as they both thought about what Steve had said, neither willing to look at the other. Steve finally spoke up again a moment later. 

"Did I make you feel good?" He asked, barely above a whisper. He saw Loki's face turn red and he glanced up at the man. 

Loki nodded his head gently before he finally looked at Steve. 

"Yeah. You made me feel nice, Steven. Not just the sex either," he admitted with a shy smile. Steve grinned back.

"Good. You know…you could save me from all this. And I could make you feel good _always._ We need each other-"

"Steve, don't. You know I can't do that with you. I'm not ready to come out and I'm not ready for a relationship. You don't deserve a partner like me. And…this might sound callous but…it's not my responsibility to save you, it's yours. I can help, but…you have to save yourself."

Steve took a deep breath and nodded, pulling on a big, fake smile. 

"You're right. I have to do it myself. I'll be fine regardless. It's not like I can't protect myself if things get really bad. Things are okay anyway…Look, I'm sorry about all this. This was supposed to be fun, right?" 

"Yeah," Loki agreed timidly. "Fun." He stayed quiet again for just a moment before he spoke again. "You know you can come to me if you need help. You know that, right? You know that Thor would be more than willing to tear him apart, too."

"Yeah…Can we just go back a little bit?"

"Back?"

"Yeah like, before this whole thing blew up. Can we just pretend that we had great sex and that was the end of it?" 

"How about," Loki began, turning toward Steve. "We go back to right _before_ we had great sex."

"Before? It, it wasn't good? I mean-"

"No, it was... _wonderful_. So, maybe…" he inched closer to the blonde. "We could go back and…do it again?" He smiled coyly, spreading his legs a bit. 

Steve's smile turned into a broad grin and he chuckled. "As you wish."

He eagerly leaned forward, pressing his lips hard against Loki's, smiling when he opened his mouth to let him in. 

Steve gently pressed Loki back onto the couch, laying on him carefully, before he broke their kiss. 

"Can I see it this time?" Steve whispered against Loki's lips. "Please? I promise to be nice."

"Maybe next time," Loki smiled at Steve.

"But, this _is_ next time," Steve definitely didn't whine.

"No, this is the _first time_ ," Loki winked.

"You're such a shit," Steve retorted, grinning when Loki laughed.

Steve gazed down at Loki, committing every minute detail to memory when Loki spoke softly.

"Are you sure you can handle this? Just being friends once we're done?"

"Uh," Steve began, pausing to think it over. "I…think I'll be okay."

"You think so? That's not very promising," Loki pointed out, pulling away from Steve a bit.

"No, I-I can. I can keep this to myself, and I won't get attached," he promised.

"Friends?" Loki asked.

"With benefits?" Steve grinned, lifting his eyebrows suggestively.

"Obviously," Loki chuckled, pulling Steve down for another kiss.

When they'd finished cleaning up again, Loki asked Steve to wait on the couch while he retrieved something from his bathroom. When he came back, he was holding a small jar filled with some sort of milky looking liquid inside.   
Steve looked at it curiously as Loki sat down gracefully on the couch.

The fairer man twisted the lid off the jar and sniffed it, humming at the pleasant smell. 

"What's that?" Steve asked curiously, trying to sit up taller to see inside the little jar. 

"Just a little tincture that I make. Smell?" Loki offered, holding the jar below Steve's nose. 

Steve sniffed cautiously, smiling when he recognized the spicy scent he so often smelled on Loki himself. 

"You make this?" 

"It's great for your skin. Let me rub it on your back," Loki commanded softly. 

"Uh," Steve groaned quietly, still not wanting to remove his shirt. 

"Come on, I've already seen it, you can't lie to me. It'll help those blisters heal. Besides," he smiled as he slipped his thin finger into the liquid. "I promised you a backrub."

It was late when Steve followed the dark-haired man back to the kitchen and this time, he accepted a slice of chocolate pie. They ate in silence, furtive glances and quiet giggles filling the quiet. The music still played softly and the spicy scent of... _something_ filled his senses. 

_Break involuntary ties  
A secret so the spies  
Could never find us out  
Stay for as long as you have time  
So the mess that we'll become  
Leaves something to talk about  
Just lay in the atmosphere  
A casual affair  
Lay in the atmosphere  
A casual affair_

This time, Steve felt a bit uneasy as he listened to the song. He thought maybe it was making Loki uncomfortable too.

"I should get going. It's getting really late," Steve told Loki remorsefully after they'd finished their desserts. "We should both get some sleep." he glanced at his watch, noting how late it had gotten.

"I suppose you're right," Loki agreed. "It's early almost. Thank you very much for joining me tonight, Steven."

"It was definitely a pleasure," Steve grinned. Loki's face turned red as he smiled. "Can we…do this again?" Steve asked timidly. 

"We'll see. We have to be very careful. No one can ever know about this," Loki told Steve seriously, looking him intently in his eyes. 

"I know. I promise not to tell."

Loki nodded, then timidly stepped toward Steve, his lips parted. Steve took a small step forward and allowed the taller man to close the distance, pressing their lips together softly. 

"Good night, Steven," Loki said fondly, as Steve turned for the door. Steve turned over his shoulder as he gripped the door handle and nodded.

"Hey, uh...before I go," he paused, smiling. "What is that smell?"

"Smell?" Loki repeated, confused, and possibly offended.

"Yeah, that spicy stuff you put on my back? You always smell good like that."

"Oh, well thanks, Steven. It's actually cloves."

"Cloves," Steve echoed smiling. "See you at work, Loki."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is a Trent Reznor song  
> Yeah, it's still going on  
> Seriously, it's the same song  
> But, it's very awesome
> 
> Let's end the song with creepy piano  
> Now it sounds like a haunted house  
> Let's end the song with creepy piano  
> Yeah that sounds really awesome
> 
> So what did you think? Happy? Disappointed?


	8. Deal With the Devil

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Judging by the guy you were jerking off to in that movie, I'd say your type is brunette," Bruce smirked down at Steve.
> 
> The blonde's eyes shot open and he sucked in a sip of air, preparing himself in case Bruce got mad. 
> 
> "I-I just like people's personalities, it's not all about looks for me," Steve replied carefully. 
> 
> "He's scrawny."
> 
> "He's _trim._
> 
> "He looks like a vampire, he's so pale he could be dead!" 
> 
> "Don't be mean!"
> 
> "You _like him._ "
> 
> Steve's mouth snapped shut and he shook his head almost imperceptibly. "I don't," he uttered. 
> 
> "I don't really like that you like him."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Uh, hey.
> 
> I'm back. Sorry I dropped off for a bit. Sometimes I just don't have it in me. I'm easily discouraged and finally had the spoons to keep going recently.
> 
> I added a couple more songs to the playlist for this story and I have a few more chapters already written, but I'm not guaranteeing a regular updating schedule
> 
> Anyway, I'll warn you now that I always end up writing something explicitly dark, so if you can't handle things like that, please don't read!
> 
> Okay. Tell me what you think once you're done. Enjoy!

Steve woke the next morning with a pounding headache and a belly full of regrets. He was glad he didn't have to work that day, and slowly peeled himself from his mattress to make his way for the kitchen.

He groaned quietly as he began filling his cheap coffee maker with cheap coffee grounds and water, standing by the counter as it brewed. His head buzzed like static on an old tv as he thought about the night before. 

He'd been so stupid. So completely, consumingly idiotic. He shook his head as he thought about the way he'd jumped so easily at the very mention of having Loki. The very thought sent him straight into a spiral of guilt. 

Things were going to be so much more complicated from this moment on.

His work relationship with Loki would be so strained now, and he just knew his relationship with Bruce would be different. It would be a lot more careful. Steve would have to keep his tracks well hidden, not only for his own sake but for Loki's as well. Who knew what Bruce might do to him if he ever knew what had happened between himself and the slight man. 

Loki didn't deserve that.

For that matter, Bruce didn't deserve any of this either. He'd been nothing but a caring partner and a doting lover to Steve, and Steve had betrayed him completely. 

He scrubbed his hands through his hair as he thought it over again, willing the coffee pot to be more than half-full already. He needed some caffeine if he was going to sift through his thoughts and feelings. 

He absently flipped the power switch on the small old radio that sat on his counter and let the music fill the silence in his home. He didn't pay much attention to what was playing, he just needed the slight distraction.

Finally, the coffee maker began to sputter and puff, signaling that it had finished its job, and Steve quickly opened the cupboard above him to retrieve a plain white coffee mug.

He began pouring the hot bean water into his mug, but the telltale sounds of someone fumbling with a key in a lock commanded his attention. 

He jumped and cussed under his breath as coffee sloshed onto his hand, but he put the pain aside, along with his mug and coffee pot, and focused his attention on the sound. He could see the knob beginning to twist and took a deep breath to steele himself against his unknown visitor with nothing but his fists at his side.

The door was open in seconds and swung wide, his intruder striding into the kitchen without any fear.

"Smells good," the man commented, closing the door behind him.

" _Bruce!_ " Steve gasped, slapping his hand over his heart as relief washed over him. "How did you get the key?" Steve quickly asked, watching the man make himself at home. 

Bruce set his keys on the counter beside the door and slid his shoulders from his coat, moving to drape it over the back of a chair at Steve's table. 

"Good morning to you, too. Sorry I scared you, honey," Bruce chuckled, "I found the spare under the flower pot. It's right on the windowsill, Blue, it's not hard to guess," he smiled, leaning against the chair.

"Uh, r-right," Steve ducked his head and smiled nervously. He'd have to find a safer place for that.

And _of course_ , he would have to conceal his deceit immediately after it happened, that was just his luck. He didn't know how he was going to keep it a secret, he just knew he had to. He was extra glad he'd taken a shower when he'd gotten home the night before, mere hours ago.

"When did you get off work? Did you get any sleep?" Steve asked quietly, turning to retrieve another mug from the cupboard and filling them both.

"Nah, I just got off a bit ago. No sleep yet."

"Awe, you must be tired. Gonna crash here for a bit? I don't mind, and I keep quiet," Steve smiled warmly as he turned back to Bruce, handing him coffee perfectly doctored to his tastes. 

"Thanks, babydoll. I hadn't planned to stay but honestly, it sounds great. Much easier than driving all the way home." He pulled the chair out and sat slowly, clutching the mug Steve had given him.

Steve smiled over his mug at Bruce while he blew into it to cool it, and watched as the brunette took a sip. He tried to ignore the tiny pinprick of guilt he felt in the hollow of his throat, doing his best to be soft for Bruce.

"This is perfect, babe." Bruce set the cup on the table carefully and turned toward Steve, holding his arms out to invite the blonde closer.

Steve found himself moving before he could even think about what he was doing, coming to a stop just centimeters away from Bruce's knees. He could feel the warmth radiating from him on his bare legs. He hadn't bothered with sweatpants when he'd gotten up and was just in white boxers and a plain white t-shirt.

Bruce's smile grew big and warm, reaching his tired eyes, and he reached for Steve's coffee, gently setting it on the table next to his own.

He quickly refocused his attention on Steve's face and reached out for him, gently taking his hand in one and placing the other softly on Steve's hip.

"I wouldn't mind if you wanted to crawl in bed with me later and take a little nap," Bruce winked, drawing Steve's hand to his lips and peppering it with kisses. 

"What happened to your hand?" Bruce asked, noticing the faint red mark on Steve's pale skin. 

Steve glanced down at the mark in question. "Oh, that was nothing. Just a little coffee. I jumped when I heard you unlocking the door and I spilled. How did you know I would be awake?" He asked. 

Bruce shook his head gently, drawing Steve's hand back to his lips and commencing his ministrations, slowly working his way up.

"Didn't," he replied simply in a hushed tone. "Just wanted to see you. You should be more careful." He turned Steve's hand and began to kiss sensually against the pulse point, his other hand beginning to knead at Steve's side.

Steve let out a breath and felt himself begin to get light-headed from the endorphins his brain released. It was like pressure was let out of his skull and it made him a little dizzy. Despite the nagging guilt, a little smile crept onto his lips and he let out a jingling laugh that was certainly not a giggle.

Bruce slowly made his way up Steve's arm, kissing tenderly and pulling him closer as he did. Steve stumbled a little until finally, he had to straddle Bruce's lap in the chair. 

Bruce let go of Steve's arm and began to push Steve's shirt up, exposing the soft hairs on his belly. He started kissing along the band of Steve's boxers and moved his way up slowly, spanning all across his stomach and the bottom of his ribs.

Steve let his hands begin carding through Bruce's curls, tugging gently as he closed his eyes and enjoyed the comforting touches. 

"My baby," Bruce murmured, almost too quiet to hear. "All dressed up in white like a little angel."

Steve smirked and looked down at Bruce, still pressing kisses against his skin. 

"I'm no angel," he replied softly. 

Bruce smiled up at him and his hands gripped Steve's waist a little tighter. "I'm glad," he purred. 

" _Bruce_ ," Steve groaned, not wanting to let the man get too far ahead of himself. "You must be exhausted. You should let me take you to bed," he offered, standing from Bruce's lap and taking his hands, tugging slightly. 

"You can take me to bed anytime," Bruce winked, letting himself be pulled from the chair and following Steve down the hall.

Bruce stopped in the doorway and frowned when Steve gasped sharply and looked back at him with wide eyes. 

"I-I'm sorry!" Steve squeaked, jumping toward his bed. "I forgot to make my bed this morning, I...I was just so tired, it slipped my mind!" Steve rushed to apologize as he scrambled to pull his sheets and blankets into place. He smoothed the last of the wrinkles down and glanced over his shoulder at Bruce as he did. 

"I'm really sorry!" Steve peeped again, turning to the dark-haired man while fidgeting with his hands nervously. "I promise it's clean, but I can change the sheets for you if you'd like!"

Bruce's confused frown grew into a warm chuckle and he shook his head. "Steve, I don't care if you make your bed. I know that you have a place for everything, and I think you probably have a bit of a psychological issue, or a very mild mental disorder when it comes to neatness, but-"

He cut himself off and cleared his throat softly when he saw the way Steve's face fell and turned red, shimmering tears forming in his eyes. He quickly took a step forward and placed his hands on Steve's waist gently, making sure any clinical professionalism was gone from his tone before he spoke again. 

"But I don't mind," he finished softly, trying to look into Steve's downturned blue eyes. "I love you just the way you are. And the bed is perfect." Steve looked up into Bruce's warm eyes slowly. 

He felt like shit inside. He felt so guilty for what he'd done. He'd gone willingly into another man's embrace and he'd tried to convince himself that it was because Bruce had been so cold, but here he was being sweet and loving...

"Why are you being so nice to me?" Steve asked softly, shuffling his feet a bit. 

"I'm always nice," Bruce smiled gently, his voice low enough that it rumbled a bit in Steve's chest. 

"I-I mean…you're being so loving," Steve tried to clarify. Bruce's eyebrows drew together and his face turned quietly stormy. 

"I'm _always_ loving," he growled a bit, his voice edged in a warning. 

Steve hissed sharply as Bruce's nails dug into his sides, but Bruce quickly released his grip, rubbing soothingly at the flesh instead. 

Steve ducked his head low, knowing he was going to anger his lover again soon if he didn't watch himself. 

"I'm sorry, Sir," he breathed out, hoping he hadn't upset him too much. "Please, let me help you to bed," Steve offered, not making eye contact. 

"No, you know what? I'm sorry. This is all my fault." Bruce sighed, stepping closer to Steve. 

Steve took an instinctive step backward and bumped into the mattress, stumbling to a sitting position.

His eyes flew wide again and he scrambled to stand back up, struggling because of how close Bruce stood over him. 

"Stay," Bruce commanded softly, pressing Steve down by his shoulders. "It's okay. I actually came here for a reason this morning," Bruce informed, slowly kneeling onto the floor in front of the blonde, between his knees.

Steve gulped as he looked down at Bruce between his thighs, unsure of what the man wanted from him. 

Bruce took a deep breath as he gathered his thoughts. Steve could see his eyes going hazy, losing focus as he thought about whatever was in his head. The lines under his eyes were carved deeply, and Steve wondered how he could even function, as exhausted as he must be. 

He felt Bruce's hands on his hips again, slowly working their way under his shirt once more. His fingertips were warm and soft as they skated across his skin, working their way to his sore back.

Steve slowly but firmly grabbed hold of Bruce's elbows, hoping the slight resistance would be enough to stop Bruce from hurting his welts but not too much that it upset the man. 

Both of their eyes were wide as they looked at each other, each of them attempting to convey a message with their expressions. Steve's was soft but twinged by a touch of wariness, and Bruce's was imploring and firm like he wanted Steve to understand something he wasn't saying.

Bruce's fingers continued their quest after a quiet moment, heading carefully to Steve's back once more. Steve suppressed a nervous yelp, but he couldn't help the way his body twitched away from Bruce's searching fingers. 

"Still hurts?" Bruce asked softly, looking up into Steve's blue eyes. 

Steve glanced away, feeling his cheeks heat, hoping the low light in his bedroom would hide his blush. "Y-yes. It's better, but…"

"But still there," Bruce nodded, pulling his hands back to Steve's waist. "That's why I needed to come here this morning."

Steve cocked his head to the side, unsure of what Bruce meant, but interested nonetheless.

"I've been thinking it over and…I don't think what I did to you was fair. I should have talked to you first. About…ground rules and boundaries. You've never had a BDSM relationship, have you?" 

Steve felt his face grow hotter than before, and he looked away quickly before shaking his head no.

"So you probably don't like spanking and marking, do you?" Bruce pressed, leaning forward to capture Steve's gaze again. 

"Uh…Not…not really," Steve admitted sheepishly. Bruce clicked his teeth and nodded.

"I'm…sorry for…what I did. And I'm sorry for embarrassing you at the restaurant. I should have never done those things without your consent."

They looked at each other for a moment, letting the words sink in. 

"I..." Bruce began, slowing and thinking over his words carefully before saying them. "I... really, _really_ like those things. A lot."

Steve felt his heart squeeze at Bruce's words but he kept his face placid.

"Is it possible that we can make a compromise?" He asked softly, sliding his hands down onto Steve's thighs. 

Steve looked down at Bruce's hands, resting softly and gently, yet still so full of power and skill.

How could they possibly compromise on hurting each other?

He thought back to the first time he'd been with Bruce at Tony's house. Bruce had tied him up and done what he wanted, telling him first that he was going to push boundaries and ignore limits. Steve had seen the primal lust in his eyes and the joy on his face and it had been _so_ sexy at the time.

Bruce had let him talk afterward about the things he had and hadn't liked and he had provided aftercare.

The Bruce from that night seemed so different from the one that Steve had been seeing since then. 

Maybe it was his fault. Maybe everything that had happened since had been of his own doing. 

Maybe he'd given off the wrong signals and messages. Maybe he'd led Bruce to believe he'd enjoy it somehow. 

And maybe everything that had happened after, how far he'd gone with Loki…

Steve's face grew hot and he turned his head, letting his gaze wander as he stayed lost in his thoughts.

Maybe if he'd just been clear with Bruce, he wouldn't have ended at the mistake he'd made. 

But he thought he'd _been_ clear.

He never said yes when he meant no-

"Blue?" Bruce cut through his thoughts gently, pulling back his attention.

Steve turned back to face Bruce, mild surprise on his face.

"Compromise?" Bruce prompted. "Like, maybe…instead of _never_ letting me leave marks, maybe you let me do it once in a while? Or even just keeping it limited to one place on your body, or limiting to just teeth and no hands…Can we talk about that? About boundaries? Because…" Bruce trailed off and Steve watched his eyes roam all across his chest, down his stomach, and then down between his legs. 

"Because…I _love_ to keep my partners marked. It makes me feel safe knowing they're wearing my brand…and that they let me… _claim them_." His eyes grew fiery and hungry as he looked back into Steve's clear crystal blue eyes. "And your skin is so… _perfect_ ," he purred, almost a growl.

Steve swallowed hard and let out a shaky breath.

"I… _suppose_ that's okay. I mean, we should do that. _Talk,_ I mean. I think that would be a good idea," Steve finally answered softly.

Bruce's smile grew into a huge, bright grin and Steve couldn't help smiling back, noting the dimple in Bruce's cheek that he hadn't seen in a while.

"Okay, good. I wish I wasn't so exhausted so we could have this talk now, but…how about you think it over if you get a chance today and…we can talk this evening? I'll take us for dinner, or maybe we can order in?" He suggested.

Steve smiled in relief, not sure that he was ready for that conversation yet either. He nodded and felt a bit of the weight on his chest dissipate.

"Great, baby." Bruce looked back at Steve's stomach again and made another purring sound in the back of his throat. "I usually read something or get off before I go to sleep when I pull an all-nighter. Do you mind if I just kiss you for a while?" Bruce asked.

Steve let out a nervous laugh at Bruce's honesty, but he couldn't deny that he craved Bruce's attention badly. 

"Yeah," Steve breathed through a smile, expecting Bruce to climb up on the bed with him.

When Bruce lifted Steve's shirt and began to press slow, sensual, wet kisses to the skin just above his bellybutton, Steve gasped and grabbed a handful of Bruce's curls, tugging softly. He could feel Bruce's big, capable hands roaming across his hips once again, and up and down his thighs. 

" _Bruce,_ " Steve moaned, closing his eyes and letting his head drop back. "Please."

"Anything you want, doll," Bruce whispered back, lifting Steve's shirt higher and traveling his lips upward. 

His tongue darted out in quick, wet flashes between his kisses and his lips sucked at Steve's skin oh so gently. His hands quickly ran up Steve's bare stomach to cup his pecs, squeezing firmly. 

Steve gasped at the unexpected move, emasculated by the way Bruce fondled his pecs and nipples as though they were full breasts. It was equally as humiliating as it was a turn-on and Steve felt himself move closer to the edge of the bed in search of friction. 

"N-no!" He squeaked out, taking hold of Bruce's wrists, failing to hold them still. Bruce continued to pinch Steve's nipples, rolling them between his thumb and first finger. He pulled the tender pink flesh gently, kissing his way up to Steve's throat. 

"Please, Sir, I-I don't want…" Steve trailed off, almost afraid to admit that he didn't want to be physical yet. 

"Don't want?" Bruce repeated, nipping at the tender part of Steve's jaw.

"S-sex!" Steve forced himself to say out loud.

"Oh, angel-eyes," Bruce admonished playfully, not letting up on his attentions. "We can be intimate without having sex."

He suddenly released his grip on Steve and slid back down, pressing a few kisses as he went until his head was between Steve's thighs.

Steve felt his face catch fire with nervousness, anxiety, and embarrassment.

"B-Brucie!" Steve yelped, but before he could say or do anything more, Bruce had begun to kiss, lick and softly suck at Steve's inner thighs, fingertips brushing the skin just underneath the fabric. 

Bruce pulled his lips away quickly with a soft pop and flicked his tongue against Steve's boxers, drawing a nervous yip from Steve. He then turned and began giving Steve's other leg attention.

"Brucie, I-" Steve began, finding it hard to catch his breath. Of course, Bruce felt good and what he was doing turned him on, but there was no way he could get hard or get off in the end. He had too much guilt soaking his heart, knowing that he'd just fucked a casual lover mere hours before. 

"I thought you wanted to kiss!" Steve finally gasped out, gripping at Bruce's hair once more. 

Bruce's eyes flicked up to Steve's mischievously and a rumbling chuckle rolled from his chest. 

"I _am_ kissing you," he winked slyly. "Just let me worship at the alter that is your body, Steve, because _God_ , is it good."

He suddenly rose to stand over Steve, forcing his head back and devouring his mouth with his tongue and teeth.

When Steve thought he might die of too many endorphins and too little air, Bruce finally broke the kiss, shoving him back onto the bed hard, forcing a soft grunt from Steve's lungs. 

Before the blonde could sit up or pull himself away, Bruce had climbed over him, reattaching his lips to Steve's and lowering his inferno-hot body onto the blonde. 

Bruce moved his lips to Steve's ear and whispered, "I know you don't want sex right now, but baby, can I get off?" He pressed his hips against Steve's, pressing the long hard bar of his cock into Steve's hip to make its presence known. 

Steve shuddered and looked up at the ceiling, feeling his eyes begin to grow fuzzy, and his brain equally as numb. 

"Please, my little sparrow, can I come on you? I'll be able to sleep after."

Steve swallowed and slowly nodded his head, keeping his gaze on the ceiling above them. He'd have to dust soon judging by the cobwebs forming in the corners of the walls. 

"That's great honey, thank you so much!" Bruce cooed, sitting up and straddling Steve's stomach. He made quick work of unbuttoning his shirt and tossing it to the floor, and Steve could see that the head of the man's cock was jutting out from the waist of his pants. It was red and glistening with precome already.

"It'll only take me a minute, okay?" Bruce assured as he let down his zipper, freeing his heavy cock and letting gravity pull it back down. "I love you so much, Steven. You're such a good boy for me," he murmured as he tugged Steve's white shirt up over his head, leaving his arms trapped in the sleeves. Steve barely noticed. 

"Mmm, you're so good for me, honey, and so gorgeous," Bruce continued as he gripped one hand around his hard cock and the other came to rest lightly at Steve's throat. 

His hand began to pump up and down fairly quickly, squeezing and pulling hard. Steve wondered in the back of his mind if Bruce was hurting himself and if he liked it better that way. 

When the hand at his throat slowly began to squeeze, Steve's brain went completely offline. He was semi-aware that his eyes still gazed at the ceiling, and he was aware of the heat and weight on top of him, but he had no idea how much time had passed before he felt the hot splashes of come landing on his chest, his chin, and cheeks. 

Bruce groaned and growled loudly as he came, pulling Steve back to the present, and finally, he slumped onto the bed beside Steve, panting as he came down from his pleasure high. 

"Oh, thank you, baby," Bruce sighed, eyes falling shut heavily as his exhaustion covered him like a thick blanket. 

Steve sat up slowly, listening to Bruce's breaths grow longer and deeper and he knew the man would be asleep soon. He pulled his shirt from his shoulders and used it to wipe the cooling come from his skin, then quickly swiped it across Bruce's shrinking cock, pulling a tired gasp from his lips. 

He threw the shirt aside, planning to do laundry later, and curled up beside Bruce, against his chest. 

He was exhausted. He could take a nap with Bruce, the man would probably love that after all. Bruce shifted onto his side more and wrapped his arms around Steve's torso, cupping at his chest again before he mumbled, "Smells like...ham."

Steve let out a soft laugh, assuming the brunette behind him must be just about asleep now.

"No...smells like.… _cloves_ ," Bruce finished softly. Steve's muscles went rigid and his heart skipped a few beats, but he didn't respond, listening to Bruce fall asleep.

Steve woke long before Bruce, quietly dressing in sweatpants and a clean black t-shirt. It probably had a picture on it when he bought it, but now it was well worn and gray with age. 

He padded softly to the kitchen and decided to microwave a cup of tea, sitting down with a browning banana, since he hadn't eaten yet that day. 

He felt a bit better now that he'd had some better sleep, but he still had a heavy mind. 

He thought about Bruce sleeping comfortably in his bed a few rooms away and his stomach churned as he thought about the way the man had gotten in that morning. 

He knew the spare key probably wasn't in the best place, but he was still shocked that Bruce hadn't even thought about asking before he just let himself in.

Maybe Steve was overthinking it. Maybe it was perfectly normal that his boyfriend felt comfortable enough to come and go as he pleased. 

Still, Steve worried about what would have happened if Bruce had come in the night, finding Steve gone. There would have been no way to explain that away.

Steve's stomach soured at the memories of the night before and he put down what was left of his banana, no longer hungry. 

It had been... _amazing_ to say the least. 

It had been so freeing and gratifying and so wonderfully _needed._ Just to be in someone's presence that he didn't have to walk on eggshells for. Someone he felt completely open with.

That thought alone scared him. 

Why had it been so wonderful? His reason had been that he needed to feel affection, but now...

He'd been so wrong. 

He'd been so wrong to think he couldn't talk to Bruce. The man had swept in the door that morning with so much passion, and so many apologies…Steve should have just told him how he felt in the first place. 

He knew the weight of his guilt would follow him for much longer than he cared to think about, but still, he found himself smiling at the words Loki had parted with. 

_Friends with benefits_

There was the possibility of something more. The possibility of another encounter. 

The very idea should scare Steve, but instead, it excited him. He couldn't even say why. 

Maybe he was attracted to the taboo nature of the thing. 

_The man he wasn't supposed to touch._

Steve sighed and scrubbed his hand over his bleary face, draining half his tea in one swig. 

He could have gone to see Peter that day. There was still plenty of time before visiting hours were over, but there's no way he could leave now. Bruce could wake at any moment, and what kind of terrible boyfriend would Steve be if he weren't there to greet him and spend precious free time with him? 

But it was still early in the afternoon. Almost three. Steve assumed he had at least a few hours before Bruce would wake up. 

He hoped the man was sleeping soundly. It did warm his heart to think of the handsome man sprawled on his bed, gentle and soft. 

Steve sighed hard again and ran his hands through his still sleep-messy hair before standing and taking his tea to the living room. 

It was clean. 

It was always clean. 

Steve had a methodic way of putting things in their rightful places when he was done with them, so there was never any mess to clean. 

Sometimes he almost wished there was, just so there would be something to do at a time like this. 

He supposed he could read a book, but really, he knew he didn't have the mental capacity to focus on that. 

He flopped heavily onto the couch, grabbing the remote from the wooden coffee table. He could flip through channels for a bit. He wouldn't have to focus on anything for at least a little while.

He huffed softly as he channel surfed, nothing catching his attention.

Finally, he stopped on a movie, lowering his hand. Whatever he'd stopped on was going to have to be good.

He let the melodramatic plot envelop him, as much as he could anyway. Something about a woman who loved a man but believed he was too good for her. They hadn't revealed the love interest yet and Steve assumed he would be your average, barely believable "hottie" with too much gel in his hair and a fake tan.

A smile crossed his lips as he watched the woman, a pretty girl with dark skin and corkscrew curls, explaining how her prince charming hadn't noticed her again to her best friend.

Steve's mind began to wander again, thinking about Peter. 

He missed the boy's innocent face and big brown eyes. He couldn't believe how much the boy had opened up to him, like a sunflower in bright afternoon sunlight in summer. So golden and warm.

He wondered if Peter missed him too. 

Steve glanced toward his spare bedroom, an old desk overrun with forgotten mail, cups of pens and pencils, dog-eared books, and a few random odds and ends that he called his office. 

It was a pretty decent size, and it was a lot of space that was under-utilized. He could convert it into a bedroom. He could get a modest bed frame and mattress, paint the walls the color blue that made him think of childhood, maybe get a fun lamp and rug.

He could make it a haven for Peter. His own private comfort space. 

His home.

Steve found himself smiling bigger now, his cheeks beginning to hurt the more he thought about it. He glanced around him and thought about all the things that would change once Peter came home.

 _If_ Peter came home.

He felt his smile droop as that thought popped into his mind. 

He still hadn't talked to Bruce about it yet. 

But he was _so close._

Peter was almost healthy enough to be discharged from the hospital, and he wanted to come with Steve as much as Steve wanted him.

He'd just have to convince Bruce. 

He _had_ to make him change his mind. 

Maybe he could convince Bruce to join him on a visit soon to meet the young man. It probably would be a good idea anyway, since Peter would have to be used to Bruce as well.

Steve shook his head to try to clear the thoughts from his mind. He'd wanted to try to forget about it for a while, yet here he was brooding. 

He tried to get back into whatever movie was playing, noting that the story had already progressed so much, he couldn't even tell what was going on. 

Finally, he saw the woman's love interest and he smiled. 

The man was handsome alright, but not as much as they'd hyped him up to be through the whole beginning of the movie.

He was tall, lean, and light-skinned, with hair that was shoulder length and shiny black. His eyes were a beautiful shade of light green. Maybe light blue, Steve couldn't tell. 

He studied the man for a moment more, noting the way his adam's apple jutted out, just enough that he noticed it but not so much that it was distracting. 

His mind wandered to thoughts of Loki.

The way the column of his pale throat had looked when he'd tossed his head back in pleasure. The way his ebony hair fell softly against the tops of his shoulders.

The way his adam's apple delicately bobbed when he swallowed or cried out in pleasure.

"Fuck," Steve growled under his breath. He could feel his blood rushing through his veins again, converging to heat his belly and his groin.

He groaned and slid down, letting his head drop onto the arm of the couch and doing his damndest to just watch the movie.

He couldn't seem to watch anything but the man though. The way he moved gracefully, leading Steve to wonder if he'd ever taken dance classes. The way his face always seemed to have a gentle edge; his lips plump and soft, his eyes sweet.

His growing desire didn't stop vying for his attention, beginning to pulse between his legs.

When the scene changed and the attractive young couple began to undress, Steve knew he wasn't going to just ignore his hard little problem.

" _Fuck,_ " Steve sighed again, reaching down between his legs. He glanced over his shoulder at the hallway behind him, listening for any signs of movement from his bedroom. When he heard none, he gave himself a gentle squeeze through his sweatpants and felt heat flood his cheeks immediately.

He paused for just one more moment, straining his ears to hear if Bruce was awake, then he yanked his pants and underwear down below his balls, freeing his hard wet cock.

He glanced at the screen again and saw that the couple in the movie were in bed together, her knees high and wrapped around his torso. He rolled his hips, suggesting that he was deep inside her and Steve felt a wave of hormones sweep through him, releasing another spurt of precome.

He closed his eyes and thought of Loki, imagining the petite man straddling his lap again. The way his hole had been unprepared and so deliciously tight. 

Steve began to slowly pump his length, lifting his hips gently into his imaginary lover as he listened to the wet fucking sounds coming quietly from his TV.

"That's right," he whispered under his breath. "Take it all."

His hand sped as he thought about how Loki's hips had rolled in circles and lifted up and down to milk Steve's cock.

"Come on, come on…close," he murmured to nobody, taking a fast look at the screen again, seeing the couple now facedown on the bed, the man behind the woman, pumping his hips hard. 

Steve squeezed hard, speeding his pace to reach his climax, but as soon as he felt his fireworks getting ready to explode, he felt them fizzle out.

"Fuck!" Steve hissed, quickly adjusting his position, spreading his legs wider, pulling his pants down just a bit more, and reaching his other hand down to cup his balls. 

He quickly started again, trying desperately to meet his end, only to fail once more. His orgasm slipped away painfully and he couldn't stop the dejected and slightly pained sound that fell from his lips. 

"Let me do it, baby," he heard, a deep, rumbling growl of a voice. Before he could react he felt big hands wrap around his thighs, yanking him down the couch, his bare ass in the air. 

Steve let out a completely undignified shriek and his eyes flew open in a panic. He was met with a groggy looking Bruce leaning over him, curls wild and askew, a smile pasted on his face as he looked down at Steve's bared and sensitive parts. 

"Let me do it, I can get you off easy," he repeated, not waiting for a response before he started petting at Steve's entrance. 

"No, Bruce!" Steve cried before he could stop himself or take some of the fear from his voice. "Please stop!" 

Bruce's head whipped up and his expression changed to something near shock. 

"I-I…please," Steve said softly, lifting himself to a sitting position, pulling his legs carefully away from Bruce's grip. He pulled his pants back up, tucking himself away from Bruce's hungry eyes, and hoped he wouldn't get too bad of punishment for denying his Sir. 

He watched the excitement drain from Bruce, his shoulders slumping and his face falling.   
"Oh," he said simply, sitting softly on the other end of the couch and training his gaze away from Steve. "Of course. My apologies."

"Bruce…" Steve tried softly, but he didn't know what to say. "I just...I'm just not...ready," he finally admitted quietly. Bruce slowly turned his eyes to Steve, listening to Steve's plea. 

"Because of what I did?" He finally asked, voice just as soft. 

Steve nodded slowly, drawing his knees to his chest and hugging his arms around himself. "I'm sorry, Sir. Please don't punish me."

Bruce's eyes slammed shut and his mouth twisted into a wry smile, void of amusement. 

"Yeah. Steven, I'm sorry that I was too rough on you. It wasn't fair to do to you and... please let me make it up to you," he begged, turning to look at Steve again. "Let me prove that I'm not just a mean bastard. I'm not. I just...want you. I just want to feel like I'm the only one you want, is that so bad?" 

Steve thought about what Bruce asked and the way he'd been thinking of another man just seconds ago. 

"Of course...of course I want you, Bruce. I...made a mistake. I shouldn't have kissed him, but-"

Bruce made a sound in his throat, his jaw tensing under his skin and Steve could tell he was holding something back. When he didn't open his mouth to say anything, Steve continued speaking, though he decided to change the subject. It felt like the safer thing to do. 

"Would you ever come with me? To see Peter?" He asked in a tiny voice, hugging his knees tighter to his body. 

Bruce turned his head and looked at Steve, really taking in his words and his body language. 

"It's really important to you, isn't it?" He finally said in a way of answer. 

"Yes," Steve admitted, unfolding his legs and turning toward Bruce. "I really think you would love him if you met him, and..." Steve's face grew hot and he knew his whole face must be glowing pink, but he forced himself to finish. "He's ready. He wants to come home with me. I just need a discharge from the hospital and he can come live with me. I was thinking, I could paint the office walls and get a nice bed-"

"Woah, hey, let's start slow, shall we? Let's not decorate the nursery before we know if this is a good idea, hmm?" Bruce suggested, though his eyes were soft, and Steve thought that might be a good sign.

"I'll go with you to visit when I can. I'm not sure how soon that will be-"

"We could go today!" Steve offered, beginning to grin brightly. 

"Honey, we have other things we need to talk about today," Bruce reminded sternly, sounding like a scolding teacher. "Like the fact that you're scared to make love to me."

Steve knew his face must be red by now because he grew so hot that his neck began to sweat. 

"Uh, m-maybe I should-"

"We need to talk," Bruce stated firmly, stopping Steve's scrambling mid-flounder. When Steve fell silent and let his head drop down, Bruce continued. 

"I thought you loved how I can make you come? Don't I make you feel good?" 

"Bruce," Steve laughed nervously, afraid to continue with the conversation. "Do you remember when we talked about...past relationships?"

Bruce nodded, encouraging the blonde to make his point. 

"Well... remember I said I'd gotten upset with some of them because all they wanted was..." Steve trailed off, his face was no less pink than before. 

"To fuck," Bruce provided tactlessly. "Yes?"

"Well," Steve fidgeted with his shirt and his fingers, beginning to shake his leg nervously. "Sometimes…sometimes I feel like…that's all you want from me. Just sex. We've never really just... _cuddled._ We never had like a, a courting period, you know?" 

"Courting?" Bruce echoed with a chuckle. 

Steve quickly dropped his head down again, feeling his chest restrict with anxiety. He should just learn to keep his stupid mouth shut. 

"So, you want me to woo you?" Bruce finally asked, waiting for Steve to glance back up. 

"I-it's okay, I shouldn't have said anyth-"

"No, stop it. I _want_ you to tell me these things! How can I be a good lover to you if you won't tell me that you don't want to fuck me?" 

"No, _Bruce_ , that's not what I-"

"It's okay. I know just how to light your fireworks. I can do more than that too."

"Can..." Steve glanced up again shyly, gathering the courage to ask his question. "Can you...love me _past_ the fireworks? Or...are you just looking for the fourth of July?"

"I'm looking for every day in summer," Bruce replied, smiling again. He moved over on the couch, closing some of the distance between them but still leaving enough to keep Steve comfortable. "Because _you_ are my sunshine. Beautiful, golden boy," he murmured, reaching up to tuck a strand of hair behind Steve's ear. 

Steve smiled and turned his eyes up to Bruce's deep brown ones and he pulled his bottom lip between his teeth before finally he leaned forward and pressed a sheepish kiss to Bruce's lips. 

Bruce smiled and softly parted his lips, leaning forward a bit and waiting for Steve to close the distance. 

They kissed for a few moments and it was unhurried and sweet, and Steve felt himself beginning to float on a cloud of happiness. He could feel it in the way his fingers and toes tingled. 

Bruce broke the kiss slowly, running his fingers through Steve's hair once again. "I think we should have a chaperone," he whispered teasingly. Steve nudged his arm with his elbow playfully and shook his head. 

"This is nice," Steve admitted, stretching his legs out. He lifted them and swung them over Bruce's lap, pulling himself close until his head could rest on Bruce's shoulder, and the brunette gladly wrapped him tightly in his arms. 

"It is," Bruce agreed softly. After a moment of comfortable silence, he asked, "Are you okay?" 

"Hmm?" Steve hummed, not sure what Bruce meant. 

"Did you experience any physical or emotional trauma recently?" 

Steve lifted his head from Bruce's shoulder with confusion written all over his face. "What?" He repeated.

Bruce sighed a laugh and smiled. "You couldn't get off. Is that normal, or did something happen?" 

Steve's eyes went wide and he quickly buried his mortified face in Bruce's shoulder with a squeak. 

"It's okay to talk about, honey. You could have erectile dysfunction, which I doubt, or it's possible that you could have developed delayed ejaculation, which could make it hard for you to come."

"Oh my god!" Steve squealed, still hiding his face. 

"Or you're just having some leftover trauma from... something that's happened to you." Bruce grew quiet after he finished, but Steve still hid from his gaze, completely humiliated at the line of questioning. 

"Was it me?" Bruce asked in a whisper. "Is it my fault?"

Steve groaned, unbelievably mortified, and took a deep breath, slowly pulling away from Bruce so he could speak. 

"I think it's just… _guilt_ ," Steve admitted finally. He didn't have to go into details and it was true. 

"Ah. For cheating?" Bruce asked to clarify. Steve pressed his forehead back against Bruce's shoulder, clutching at his still-bare shoulders before he slowly nodded. 

"I didn't mean to, Bruce," he whispered. 

Bruce sat back against the couch and was quiet for a moment, lost in his thoughts. Finally, he nodded his head and sighed. 

"What is it you see in him? Should I…wear contacts or something?" Bruce asked, sounding unsure for the first time since Steve had known him. "Maybe lose some weight?" He suggested. 

"No, Bruce. I just...I don't know what it is. It's nothing that I prefer over you, i-it's not like I have a type or something. I just realized I liked men recently."

"Judging by the guy you were jerking off to in that movie, I'd say your type is brunette," Bruce smirked down at Steve.

The blonde's eyes shot open and he sucked in a sip of air, preparing himself in case Bruce got mad. 

"I-I just like people's personalities, it's not all about looks for me," Steve replied carefully. 

"He's scrawny."

"He's _trim._

"He looks like a vampire, he's so pale he could be dead!" 

"Don't be mean!"

"You _like him._ "

Steve's mouth snapped shut and he shook his head almost imperceptibly. "I don't," he uttered. 

"I don't really like that you like him."

"Bruce, I-I, I'm here with you!"

"I want to talk about marking you," Bruce stated flatly, changing the subject completely.

"W-what?" Steve gasped, surprised by the sudden statement. 

"I want to mark you. I want to keep you marked so that I feel comfortable when you're with other men."

"What are you talking about?" Steve asked sitting back, leaning away from Bruce. 

"This," Bruce said suddenly, reaching out and wrapping his fingers firmly around Steve's neck, pressing at the fading greenish bruise on Steve's throat. 

"Ah!" Steve yelped, sucking in a panicked breath, his fingers gripping at the cushion beneath him. 

"I want to claim you so that everyone knows you're mine. I want to have a permanent mark on you. One that I put there myself and replace once it starts to fade."

Steve could feel hot tears welling in his eyes, but he willed them not to spill over.

"Don't be scared, Steven, please. This is what I was talking about when I said we should compromise." His hand loosened its grip on Steve's throat, sliding down his chest lovingly. "I'm not trying to be cruel. It would just make me feel better knowing that you're wearing my mark while I'm not with you."

"Wouldn't a ring be easier?" Steve laughed nervously, not sure if his joke would hit the mark or not.

Bruce's eyebrow quirked and he tilted his head to the side, glancing down at Steve's hands. 

"We'll talk. What do you say, Stevie? I won't spank you anymore unless we talk about it first, I won't mark you where anyone can see. I promise to be more patient. In return, you'll let me keep you marked. Wherever I choose. Is that fair?" Bruce asked, leaning forward a bit hopefully.

Steve thought it over quickly. It sounded like a good deal, actually. It sounded like Bruce would try harder in the places Steve needed him to the most, and letting Bruce leave some kind of mark on him to feel safe didn't actually sound so bad. 

"O-okay…but…"

Bruce waited patiently, the hint of a smile on his face.

"You can't leave me when we're out in public together anymore. That was… _so humiliating._ " He turned his face away to try to hide the way it flushed at his words. 

Bruce paused for just a second before he pulled Steve into his arms, squeezing firmly. 

"Honey, I'm so sorry I did that. My anger got the best of me that day but that's no excuse. I swear, I won't ever do that again."

Steve let out a long breath and let himself melt against Bruce, drinking in the affection.

"So do we have a deal, baby? Does that sound fair?"

Steve nodded his head, glancing up at Bruce with sad cerulean eyes.

Bruce's lips curled up into a broad grin.

"Have to say it, Blue."

"Yes, Sir. I agree." Steve was quiet.

"You agree?"

"To let you mark me. I agree."

A rumbling chuckle rolled up from Bruce's rib cage and he slid his hand gently over Steve's leg, gripping gently at his soft inner thigh.

"You're such a good boy for me, baby."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So?


	9. Drinking with Evil

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Jeez, are you trying to get me…well, this is _beyond_ drunk, this is alcohol poisoning," Steve laughed weakly, taking the glass. "I'm not much of a drinker."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello there and happy Valentine's day, if you celebrate!  
> I wasn't planning on posting today necessarily, but I finished the chapter following this and figured what the heck. Sorry, they're both a little shorter than my usual, but it's still as packed as I could make it.
> 
> Be warned that tags have been updated and I do periodically add more as I see fit, and some of the new ones are pretty heavy.
> 
> This chapter is from Bruce's POV as kind of a little experiment, so I apologize if it's too different from the rest of the story. I wanted to give a little insight into Bruce's inner workings but I may not do it a lot to keep from giving away too many "spoilers".
> 
> Again, this chapter is pretty graphic, so if you can't handle it, please do not read it. I'm going to try to give a summary of what happens in the endnotes if you still want to know what else happened.
> 
> Again;  
> There is a full r*pe scene in this chapter.  
> It's from the perspective of the abuser, who doesn't see what he's doing as wrong.

Bruce smiled to himself as he rejoined Steve in his living room. He'd found a mostly full bottle of whiskey tucked back in a cupboard and had poured a _very_ full glass for Steve, as well as a glass for himself. 

He was going to do this right. He was going to take his time, reassuring the blonde every step of the way. This was important to him.

"Here, dollface," he smiled as he handed Steve one of the glasses and knelt before him on the floor between his knees.

"Jeez, are you trying to get me…well, this is _beyond_ drunk, this is alcohol poisoning," Steve laughed weakly, taking the glass. "I'm not much of a drinker." 

"I just want to be sure that you're comfortable. You don't have to drink the whole thing," Bruce assured, letting his free hand roam Steve's thigh. "Let's take off these sweats."

Bruce reached up and grabbed the elastic waistband of Steve's pants, tugging a bit without waiting for approval. 

Steve took a sharp breath and wiggled in his seat, halting Bruce's motions.

"I thought we were going to wait a bit before we-"

"Nothing sexual," Bruce cut him off, doing his best to sound reassuring. "I want to mark you here," Bruce stated, gripping Steve's inner thigh tightly. "But not until you're ready. So why don't we get these pants off, and I'll make you... _comfortable._ "

He gently nudged Steve's hip, tugging at his pants once again. 

Steve reluctantly lifted his hips, letting Bruce slide his pants from underneath his butt. 

"Drink," Bruce commanded softly, focusing his attention on Steve's knees. 

Steve's hand shook but he did as he was told, taking a sip with a wince.

Bruce took his time, kissing the inside of Steve's knees slowly and gently, not wanting to be too forward too fast. He'd already turned the television off, turning a radio on low instead, and he'd lit candles, closing blinds and turning off lights as he went. 

Steve was fidgeting above him, squirming with anxiety. Bruce knew it was nerve-wracking for the man, probably never having experienced something like this. He would be as gentle as possible, and he was sure Steve would get used to it. 

"You're being so good right now, Steven. I'm so glad you're letting me do this."

Steve laughed again nervously, clearly unsure of what to say. 

"It's not, uh…it's not gonna hurt, is it?" He asked sheepishly. 

"Well, nothing you can't handle, I'm sure. And I'll go very slow." Bruce placed his hand under Steve's elbow and pushed, guiding the hand that held his drink to his mouth.

Steve followed Bruce's lead and took another, larger swig. 

"Do we have to do this a lot?" Steve asked, sipping again at the full glass.

"It depends on how much you can take and how fast you heal," Bruce answered plainly.

Steve's eyebrows furrowed as he thought about it, then finally he nodded. His fingers threaded gently through Bruce's hair and he leaned back, opening his legs wider.

"You can do it now, it's okay," Steve murmured, though his face and neck flamed scarlet.

Bruce grinned and shook his head softly. 

"No love, you're thinking about this the wrong way. I don't want you to think of this as a punishment. This is _special_. Something that's just between us. _For_ us. And it makes Sir _very_ happy."

Steve's mouth quirked into a slow smile. "Thanks, honey." His voice was small and delicate. "You're being really sweet."

"I'm _always_ sweet," Bruce replied, an edge of hardness in his voice. Steve shifted in his seat again, his hands drawing together in his lap and his shoulders tensing a bit. Bruce watched Steve's eyes fall to his lap nervously and he forced his smile bigger, leaning up leisurely to press his lips to the hollow of Steve's throat.

"Drink," he whispered into Steve's ear seductively. The taller man shivered and immediately lifted his glass to his lips. Bruce loved that he listened so well. 

Steve gagged and coughed, sputtering on his big gulp. 

"Ugh," Steve muttered, wiping tears from his eyes. "This is too much, Brucie, I don't want to drink this. I'm starting to get a stomach ache. Is it okay if I set this down?" He asked, like a good boy. 

"Oh baby, does your tummy hurt?" Bruce asked, infantilizing him a bit. "Let me take it for you so you don't spill," he continued, taking Steve's glass and setting it on the coffee table beside his untouched one. 

"How are you feeling?" 

"I'm nervous. And my lips are tingling."

"That's a good sign," Bruce chuckled softly, wrapping his arms around Steve's torso and pushing their chests together. He kissed Steve unhurriedly, coaxing him to relax and settle into his seat. 

He slowly worked Steve's lips open with his tongue and invaded, exploring every nuance of Steve's mouth. Soon, Steve was moaning softly, his hips moving imperceptibly against Bruce's waist.

Such a good boy. 

Bruce pulled back suddenly, smiling when Steve chased his lips for more, clear blue eyes shut. He picked up his glass, taking a small mouthful of the spicy liquor into his mouth before pressing his lips to Steve's once again. 

Slowly, he opened his lips, letting the liquid pour into Steve's mouth. 

The blonde flinched and tried to pull away, but Bruce held him firm, emptying his mouth and being sure that Steve had swallowed before letting him loose. 

"Honey!" Steve cried out, voice pitching higher than he'd probably intended. "Please, I need some water, I don't really drink!" He begged, still trying to squirm out of Bruce's arms. "Please, can I have some water, honey? Please?"

"Alright, alright," Bruce soothed, loosening his grip slowly. "I'll get you some water, baby, just relax." He leaned forward and claimed Steve's lips again, trying to get him back into the relaxed state he'd been in before. 

It didn't take much. The alcohol seemed to be hitting Steve like a train careening down a track, and Bruce glanced back at his glass on the coffee table. 

It was still at least three-fourths of the way full, but Steve had already ingested a pretty good amount. He'd have to slow down on pushing the drink or he'd make Steve sick.

"Okay love, how are you feeling?" Bruce asked again, examining Steve's pupils, watching the slow way they expanded as they looked back. 

" 'M, uh...I'm feelin'…" Steve trailed off, his eyes glassing over just a tad. Bruce waited with a little grin on his face for a moment to see how long Steve would stay gone. 

"…good. Pretty good," Steve finally finished, slurring a bit. "My teeth are vibrating."

"Okay," Bruce replied noncomittally. He needed to _actually_ get Steve some water at this point.

"What have you eaten today?" Bruce asked as he made his way to retrieve water.

"Oh, a b'nan. Halfa one." Steve garbled honestly.

" _Steven_ ," Bruce chided, his brow furrowing. "You need to eat more!" He didn't yell but he wasn't quiet. He was just being direct.

"Yessir."

Bruce sighed and shook his head, searching the cupboards for something Steve could nibble on, finding a sleeve of unopened saltines. He quickly crossed the rooms back to where Steve sat on the couch, handing him the water first.

Steve took the glass but Bruce held onto it still, helping steady Steve's hand while he drank.

"Oh, honey," Steve groaned, his lips curling into a smile as his eyes fluttered closed. He giggled, even though he swore he was _not_ a man that giggled, and threaded his hands through Bruce's hair. "That was so _gooood_."

"That was water," Bruce laughed, taking the glass and offering crackers instead. Steve gladly took one and bit it eagerly, moaning as he chewed, eyes still closed. 

Bruce snickered softly and pulled a few more crackers out of the plastic, setting them in Steve's open palm. He then slid down onto his haunches and got comfortable between Steve's legs, caressing the velvety soft, and delicate skin lovingly. 

Steve absently munched on the crackers one by one while Bruce began kissing at Steve's thighs again. 

God, he loved to be here.

He wondered if Steve even registered his touch. His eyes were glazed over completely and he stared ahead at the television that wasn't even on. Bruce smiled and focused on the soft music that played as he got closer to the thing he wanted. 

_When you play it hard  
And I try to follow you there  
It's not about control  
But I turn back when I see where you go_

_Are you going to age with grace?  
Are you going to leave a path to trace?_

The song was soft. It was melodic and sad and the sounds of what he assumed was a violin helped Bruce find a good rhythm in his affections.

Finally, he just couldn't wait any longer. He was too excited in every way, and Steve was sitting quietly above him, his beautiful blue eyes fluttering open and closed. 

He was ready. It was time.

His lips curled into a big grin, betraying his excitement. He let his tongue dart out and swipe across Steve's skin, wetting the place he wanted to leave his mark.

It was high up Steve's thigh, almost to the crease of his groin, but still low enough that it would be visible without removing his boxers.

He let his teeth slowly sink in, just a bit, sucking and licking gently, experimentally.

When Steve didn't react, Bruce bit down just a bit harder.

Steve hissed above him and flinched a bit, but otherwise, he didn't react. Bruce held the pressure and began to suck at the sensitive flesh, not sure how much it would take to bruise the blonde.

After a moment, he released his jaw, licking the saliva from Steve's thigh and examined the mark. 

It was light, ringed in teeth marks, and slowly turning from a bright red to a light purple. He smiled and opened his lips to resume his task. 

He bit down harder this time, sucking more fiercely than he had before, and Steve yelped softly. His leg jerked away from Bruce's lips and broke the suction roughly.

Bruce checked to be sure that his teeth hadn't broken the skin before he looked up into Steve's eyes. 

His eyes were wide and his mouth gapped, but his gaze was still foggy. 

"You okay, sweetheart?" Bruce asked softly.

"Hurts," Steve murmured. 

"That's okay, honey." Bruce reached for Steve's glass of liquor and pressed it back into his hand. "Drink," he prodded softly. 

He had to be careful, not only so that he didn't make the other man sick, but also because the alcohol would thin his blood, making him bleed if Bruce wasn't careful not to break the skin. 

Steve did as he was told, taking a few gulps much larger than Bruce had expected him to, then he sputtered and Bruce grabbed the glass from his hand before he could spill it. 

"Fuck, tha's not water," Steve slurred, his body beginning to tremble slightly. 

"No, baby. You're being so good for Sir," Bruce praised, watching his face carefully. He was out of it and going farther down into a drunken stupor. As long as he kept the man calm, he should be able to make a nice, dark bruise on his thigh. 

He slowly pressed a kiss to the fresh mark before he sunk his teeth in once again, sucking hard. 

"Ah!" Steve gasped again, but he sat back against the couch, his hands falling to his sides heavily. 

"That's it," Bruce cooed, adjusting his jaw and going in again.

It didn't take very much before the bruise was big and dark. Steve's porcelain skin bruised so well. 

Bruce sat back and admired his work, letting his hand roam up to Steve's stomach as he did. Steve didn't react at all, and Bruce glanced up to be sure that he was still conscious. 

He was, but barely. His eyes fluttered and his head bobbed back and forth like he was fighting unconsciousness hard. 

"Are you with me baby?" Bruce asked softly, not wanting to pull him from his trance. 

Steve didn't answer, but a soft clicking sound fell from his throat. He was trying to swallow, but he couldn't because the alcohol had dried all of the moisture from his mouth. 

Bruce took pity on the man, taking Steve's glass of water and filling his own mouth. He leaned up and pressed his lips to Steve's, feeling the man feebly trying to kiss him back. 

He pressed Steve's lips apart with his tongue and slowly let the liquid trickle from his mouth, delighting when Steve's tongue invaded his mouth greedily, searching out each drop he could find. 

Steve moaned when Bruce pulled his lips away, but he sighed contentedly once he'd swallowed, and Bruce made up his mind to push the man just a bit farther. 

"Steve?" He called softly. The blonde blinked hard at the sound of his name, but he didn't answer. 

Bruce slid a small bottle of lube from his sweatpants pocket, clicking the lid open quietly. He poured a few drops onto his first two fingers and smeared it across them both, watching Steve carefully. 

"Can you hear me?" He asked, keeping his voice soft. When Steve once again didn't respond, he slid his hand gently up the leg of Steve's boxers, watching his face closely. 

He slid his slicked fingers between Steve's cheeks and located his hole, rubbing against it softly. 

Aside from Steve's eyebrows furrowing slightly, there was still no response. 

He pressed his first finger against Steve's muscle, feeling it soften faster than it usually did, and pressed in until Steve sucked in another pained breath, clenching around the probing finger. 

"It's okay, baby. I'll take care of you," Bruce assured, holding his finger still. When he felt Steve relax again, he began to fuck his finger in and out slowly, watching the man begin to melt. His legs dropped open wider and Steve sank low on the couch, offering Bruce freer access. 

Bruce smirked and pressed his second finger in beside the first, pressing them both in deep.

"Oooohhhh," Steve moaned, his hand twitching momentarily, but when Bruce looked up, he watched those crystal-blue eyes shut and knew he could do what he wanted. 

He firmly began to fuck Steve on his fingers, pressing deep and hard, but still moving slowly. He watched Steve's cock begin to fill and harden, growing slowly inside his boxers. 

He let himself play, stretching Steve leisurely, adding another finger and more lube to ease his way. 

"You're such a good girl, Steve," he cooed, watching for a reaction to his words. He laughed when Steve nodded imperceptibly. 

Once he had stretched Steve around all four of his fingers, he knew the man was ready. 

Without any resistance, he'd be able to take Steve as hard as he wanted without fear of hurting the man. Steve took his cock well, even as big as it was, but Bruce always had to hold himself back, even just a little. This time, he was getting what he wanted. 

He slid his fingers from inside Steve, a satisfying squelch ringing out into the near silence. 

"God, your pussy is good Steve," Bruce told the man, knowing he probably couldn't even hear him. He gripped Steve's white boxers and pulled, sliding them off completely with no difficulty. 

When Steve took a sharp breath and groaned loudly, Bruce's heart stuttered in his chest, thinking Steve would shut him down again, but he couldn't believe his luck when Steve flopped down onto the couch.

He lay back, kicking a foot up onto the armrest, the other landing on the floor, spreading him wide open for Bruce. His eyes were shut tightly and his breathing grew deeper. 

If he wasn't asleep now, he would be soon. Bruce grinned and stood, taking his time to slick his hard cock, stroking himself as he looked at Steve's shiny red rim. 

"Can Sir have your pussy?" He asked quietly, his wicked grin not budging from his face. He knew Steve wouldn't answer. 

He carefully situated himself over top of Steve, licking a broad stripe up his neck and across the side of his face, into his hairline. 

"I love you, Stevie. You're so good to me," he whispered as he took hold of his length and guided it against Steve's entrance. He pushed slowly, knowing he'd have to get the head in neatly before he could have what he wanted. 

He was careful not to hurt the man, pressing firmly. He watched Steve's fingers dig into the couch, subconsciously holding on, or perhaps controlling his pain. 

Once Bruce felt the head of his fat cock breach Steve, he pushed quicker, feeding his cock inside of Steve's walls as fast as he could without causing pain, before he quickly bottomed out. 

" _Fuuuuck_ ," he groaned. He could come just from the tight squeeze of Steve's ass, but he wouldn't let himself. He was going to wring every drop of pleasure he could from this. 

He pulled half his length out and watched as he slowly pushed it back in, watching Steve's hole swallow him inch by inch. 

Bruce dropped his hips, not wanting to waste any more time. He gripped Steve's hips and pulled him down hard onto his cock, pressing in firmly at the same time. 

A little squeak dropped from Steve's mouth and Bruce almost couldn't hold back his laughter. Steve's half-hard cock was filling, loving Bruce's cock, even if he didn't know it. 

"Ready for the ride, baby?" Bruce asked, pounding into Steve mercilessly as soon as the question left his lips. Even if Steve had been awake, he wouldn't have had time to answer. 

Bruce gladly let his animalistic needs take over, something he'd never done with Steve before. He fucked Steve hard and fast, the sounds echoing around the living room loudly.

He let one hand grip Steve's throat firmly but not so hard that it would bruise, and with the other he yanked Steve's body down hard onto his thrusting cock, spearing him open harder than he'd be able to handle if he were awake. 

"That's it baby, take all of Sir's dick. Such a good little cock sleeve," he mumbled before his words gave way to guttural snarls. Steve's body jerked, random muscles tensing each time Bruce's hips met his ass, and Bruce knew he'd be sore at the very least. 

He pressed in hard, loving the way it felt to be so deep inside his lover. He could feel his orgasm building and he glanced down at Steve's stomach to watch the outline of his big cock carving out a home inside him. 

He drooled a bit as he grinned wide, dripping onto Steve's full chest. He quickly shoved Steve's shirt up under his armpits, squeezing brutally at his pecs, so muscular and round that they were practically tits. He let himself indulge a little more, wrapping his lips around a hard nipple and suckling as though he were nursing, moaning loud and perverse. 

When he was ready to let go and fill Steve, he grabbed the man's legs, hoisting them up high in the air before he let loose. 

He brutally took Steve, loving the way their skin slapping together sounded over the music, until finally, he pressed in deep and filled Steve with every drop of come he had. 

When he came down from his high and his breathing slowed, he glanced at Steve's still sleeping face. Tiny tears had formed at the edges of his closed eyes and were beginning to run slowly down his cheeks. 

Bruce lovingly wiped away the tears, licking them from his thumbs once he was done. 

It almost pained him to pull out of Steve, wishing he could have more time inside him, but he knew he had to get them both cleaned up and dressed before Steve came back to reality. 

He glanced down at Steve's cock, seeing it still full but slowly shrinking, and decided to be kind. 

"Let me take care of that, doll," he murmured as he adjusted himself to a more comfortable position before taking hold of Steve's cock carefully and beginning to stroke it. 

Steve moaned a little at Bruce's soft grip, his voice a little higher than normal.

"That's it, just let Sir take care of it."

He pumped Steve faster, still keeping his grip loose, and he waited patiently for the man to come to his finish.

He smiled as he watched Steve squirm, his movements muted by the alcohol, but his hand slowed when he realized that Steve was quickly growing soft once more. 

"Are you going to come, baby?" Bruce asked Steve gently, still trying to get the blonde to orgasm.

Steve's hand jerked up and swatted in Bruce's direction and the brunette took it as a sign that he should back up. 

"Alright, I'm going to get us cleaned up," Bruce said to Steve, standing and hurrying to the bathroom.

He came back with a wet washcloth and quickly pushed Steve's legs open, cleaning as much of the mess as he possibly could. He knew there would be more inside, but there was nothing he could do about that. He had a pretty good idea of what he was going to tell the man regardless.

He hurriedly cleaned himself, pulling his pants back on, and took the washcloth back to the bathroom to stow it at the bottom of the laundry bin.

He stopped in Steve's bedroom and grabbed a clean t-shirt to throw on, not wanting to put on his stiff button-up from the day before again.

Finally, he made his way back to Steve, lovingly pulling his sweatpants back up his legs and around his waist.

He sat on the couch beside Steve for a moment, taking in the beautiful vision that was his lover. He considered staying until he woke up, but a glance at the time displayed on Steve's entertainment stand told him he should start making them dinner. It was going to be getting late soon, and Steve's stomach was stupidly empty.

He sighed as he stood, patting the side of Steve's ass gently as he went, turning up the radio a few clicks as he made his way to the kitchen.

He listened to the soft music playing, humming along softly as he scoped out what Steve had in his kitchen, shaking his head in annoyance when he didn't find much to work with. 

_Words falling out through the window  
All that remains is a silent call  
Is the Earth colored red?  
As I land like a flower on the meadow  
Love is wild_

The girl singing the song sounded like she had a European accent of some sort, and Bruce loved her sweet voice, though it seemed like the song she sang was a sad one. He wondered what it might be about as he began pulling ingredients together.

_Are your dreams as dead as they seem?  
Are your dreams as dead as they seem?_

Steve should wake soon.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So yeah.  
> Happy Valentine's day here's a r*pe scene!
> 
> In this chapter, Bruce gets Steve a glass full of alcohol and pressures him to keep drinking much more than he's comfortable with, even after telling Bruce repeatedly that he doesn't want to. 
> 
> Once Steve is well and plastered, Bruce takes advantage of his drunken state to mark his thigh with a deep bite. 
> 
> Bruce realizes that Steve has blacked out and takes advantage of him, taking what he wants, even after having the conversation with Steve about how he wasn't ready yet. 
> 
> Once he's finished, he cleans them both up and goes about making dinner without any feelings of guilt.  
> Bruce doesn't believe he's done anything wrong and is mad at Steve for not having any food in his kitchen.  
> Steve is still passed out on the couch when the chapter ends.
> 
> Okay, sorry if that recap was awkward, but I didn't realize before how beneficial that might be for some people.
> 
> Please let me know what you think, I literally live for the comments. Even if it's to tell me that you hated every bit of it, I still appreciate your time. And thanks to everyone that has commented in the past, I'm sorry if I didn't respond, I do my best and appreciate it all!


	10. Trust Me, I'm a Doctor

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Steve rushed into the bathroom, shoving Bruce back and shutting the door before he could follow him in, and Bruce did his best not to take it personally. The man probably was just embarrassed being sick in front of his partner for the first time.
> 
> Bruce heard him lift the toilet seat fast, dropping to his knees hard before he heaved painfully. He could hear the splashing in the bowl and he waited until the heaves were dry.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this took so long, I just haven't had the time to post! I decided to finally start getting caught up with an old abandoned work, so I've been behind writing this story as well. I'm going to try to split my time more evenly in the future, but I'm hoping for an update on the other story sometime this week!  
> Until then, enjoy this short chapter!

"Brucie?" Steve's voice rang out through the near-silence. It sounded high and panicked, choked with tears.

"I'm here, honey!" Bruce called as he quickly ran to Steve's side at the sofa. "I was just finishing up dinner. How are you feeling?" He asked as he reached Steve's side, gently helping him to a sitting position.

"Sick!" Steve mewled, holding his head. His eyes squeezed shut and Bruce could see tears shining in his eyelashes. 

"Oh, sweetie," Bruce cooed softly, rubbing his big hand back and forth against Steve's shoulders. "I'll get you some medicine. Do you feel like you can eat?" He asked, waiting before he stood.

"I don't know," Steve moaned, clutching at his stomach now. "I think…I think I'm gonna be sick."

The words had barely left his mouth when his stomach gurgled loudly. Steve's hand clapped over his mouth and his eyes went wide. 

"It's okay!" Bruce assured quickly, leaping to his feet and taking hold of Steve's arms to help him up as well. "Let's get you to the bathroom."

He guided Steve quickly, steadying his shaky steps as they went. He heard Steve's quiet hisses as his legs rubbed together but Bruce didn't comment. He'd see the mark soon enough. 

Steve rushed into the bathroom, shoving Bruce back and shutting the door before he could follow him in, and Bruce did his best not to take it personally. The man probably was just embarrassed being sick in front of his partner for the first time.

Bruce heard him lift the toilet seat fast, dropping to his knees hard before he heaved painfully. He could hear the splashing in the bowl and he waited until the heaves were dry.

After just a moment, the only sound Bruce heard coming from the bathroom was Steve's weak sobs and whimpers, and the groans that fell from his mouth unbidden. 

It sounded like he was having a hard time standing to make it to the sink to get himself cleaned up.

"Hey, Blue?" Bruce called through the door softly.  
"Can I help you?"

"Wait!" Steve cried, and Bruce heard the toilet lid clank shut sharply, the handle pulled so the toilet would flush. "L-let me get cleaned up first," Steve croaked, sniffling a bit. 

"Honey, let me help," Bruce commanded carefully, even as he turned the knob and entered the room. 

"Bruce!" Steve cried, hunching low over the sink so the brunette wouldn't see his face. 

"Baby, don't hide from me," Bruce softly chided, turning off the brightest of the lights in the bathroom, leaving just a strip of dim ones on. He was sure Steve's headache would thank him.

"This is so embarrassing," Steve whispered, turning the faucet on with shaking hands. 

"I'm a doctor, honey. Nothing surprises me." Bruce grabbed a clean, perfectly folded washcloth from the closet and brought it over to the sink, wetting it. He gently took Steve's chin in his hand to turn his face.

"Don't do that, I'm disgusting!" Steve pulled away, ashamed of himself. 

"Honey, I'm here to take care of you. Let me," Bruce advised. Steve's cheeks turned a deep red, glowing even through the dim lights, but he slowly turned back to Bruce.

His whole body was quaking and he looked shaky on his feet. 

Bruce took charge of Steve as though he were a patient, being kind but firm and efficient, and wiped Steve's mouth and chin, running the wet cloth along the inside of his lips and over his gums. 

"Mouthwash or water?" Bruce asked quietly, opening the medicine cabinet in search of pain relievers. 

"Mouthwash," Steve sighed, letting Bruce take control. "I'm so sorry about this," He stated morosely. "I really don't drink."

It was quiet for a moment while Bruce set down three small round pills on the counter, turning in search of mouthwash. He found it quickly and brought it back, pouring some into an empty paper cup that had been stacked under the mirror. He ran water from the faucet into another cup for Steve to take his pills once he was done washing his mouth out.

Steve spit and groaned, accepting both the medicine and the water, downing them both, then quickly rinsed the sink out.

"Fuck, I feel like I got ran over by an elephant," Steve grumbled, voice barely above a whisper. 

"Trampled."

"What?"

"Never mind. Honey, let me take you out to the kitchen," Bruce offered, wrapping his hand firmly around Steve's upper arm and tugging him for the door. Steve grumbled under his breath, but he seemed pretty unsteady on his feet, as though Bruce were holding him up more than he was holding himself. 

Steve let out little sounds that Bruce knew was the blonde trying to hold back his pain. His walk was off-center, due to him favoring the, no doubt, _incredibly_ sore spot on his thigh.

Bruce pulled out a chair at the low table, helping the man to sit down. He knew Steve was going to start asking questions _very_ soon. 

Steve's face slowly took on a confused expression as he sat gingerly, no doubt beginning to feel either the pain in his leg, his sore, wet asshole, or possibly both.

"Hey, Bruce?" Steve finally broke the silence. His words were long and drawn out like he weren't sure if he should speak them at all.

Bruce turned toward the stove and grabbed the shallow bowls he had already set aside, starting to plate dinner for the blonde.

"Yeah babe?" he answered, careful to keep his voice neutral. "You feel okay?"

Steve didn't answer right away, and Bruce continued to portion into the bowls.

"Did…did I…did _you_ …" Steve trailed off. Bruce could hear his breathing escalate and was careful not to turn around too soon.

"Did I… _pass out?_ " Steve finally asked, his voice hitching. Bruce knew there were tears in his eyes.

Bruce thought about the conversation he'd planned to have with Steve and the best way to orchestrate it into real life in a fraction of a second, preparing himself. 

"You did. Does your head hurt?" He heard Steve's voice hitch a bit, and he could hear the man squirming in his chair. 

"Did…did you still mark me?" He finally asked. 

Bruce put on a warm smile and turned around, bowls full of steaming food ready to eat in his hands. 

"You passed out after that," Bruce informed Steve, coming close to set one of the bowls on the table before him.

"But…I don't _remember_ it," Steve informed Bruce, watching him with wide, nervous eyes. 

"I don't doubt that," Bruce chuckled softly. He sat down in the chair to Steve's immediate left, turning to face toward the taller man. 

"I told you to slow down with that drink, but you told me you could handle it," Bruce grinned, his eyebrows rising at the memory. 

Steve's face burned hot up to the tips of his ears, but his face grew more confused. 

"But-"

"You need to eat, honey," Bruce cut him off. "I made some chicken with just a little salt to get your sodium levels back up and some ginger rice with carrots and broccoli. Very bland so your stomach can handle it."

Steve looked down into the plate in front of him as if for the first time. 

"Ugh, I don't think I can eat, honey. My stomach hurts so bad-"

"That's because you don't eat," Bruce reprimanded sternly. "You drank all that on an empty stomach. It hurts because it's begging you to eat."

"How much did I drink?" Steve asked, changing the subject quickly. 

"Most of the glass," Bruce answered, taking a forkful of chicken. Truthfully, he'd emptied his entire glass down the drain, as well as what was left of Steve's but the man had still drunk almost half of the tall glass. 

"So…you told me to drink because it would be easier, even though I didn't want to…then I blacked out and…suddenly I _wanted_ the alcohol?" Steve questioned, sounding a bit suspicious. 

Bruce just shrugged as he sipped some water from the glasses he'd already brought to the table. "Guess so, babe. You were pretty wild," Bruce grinned. "Take a bite," he urged. 

Steve turned back to the food in front of him and reluctantly picked up a spoon, taking a tiny bite of plain rice. Suddenly, he dropped the spoon back to the table and turned to face Bruce. 

"What's up, doll?" Bruce asked nonchalantly as he took another mouthful. 

"Bruce?" Steve waited for Bruce to look at him, his face determined but still so humiliated. "Why does my asshole hurt so bad?"

Bruce didn't react, his mind calculating the perfect response faster than Steve could comprehend in the time it took him to lick his spoon.

"You don't remember?" Bruce asked, pulling on a warm smile and leaning back in his chair to give Steve his full attention. 

"Remember… _what?_ " Steve asked, though he was clearly scared to hear the answer. 

"You wanted it bad, Blue. You wouldn't take no for an answer."

"Wait," Steve interrupted looking horrified. "What are you talking about? I said I didn't want sex! I said I wasn't ready!" Steve cried, tears rolling down his cheeks then. 

It might take a minute, but Bruce knew he could diffuse Steve's anger. 

"Honey, it was your idea!" Bruce insisted. "Don't you remember?" 

"I remember telling you that I wasn't ready and I remember you getting me drunk so I could handle the pain from..." He trailed off, glancing down at his leg. 

"Anything else?" Bruce pressed. 

"Not...not really," Steve admitted, embarrassed. 

"Oh, honey. I told you to slow down on the drinks and brought you some crackers and water. After you let me mark you, you were insatiable. You wouldn't take no for an answer. You got me hard and then rode me for all I was worth right there on the couch," Bruce lied, keeping his face calm. 

"So you.…you accepted my drunken consent? You let me..." Steve's chest hitched, his breathing beginning to speed, no doubt along with his heart. 

"Oh, honey, I'm sorry! I tried to get you to wait until you were sober-"

"So what happened after that? When did I black out?" Steve demanded, voice hard. 

"Shortly after you got off. I got us cleaned up and let you sleep on the couch while I made dinner. Eat, please."

Steve's tears turned to sobs, which he did his best to swallow down. Bruce calmly took another sip of his water, reaching over to Steve's plate and cutting a small piece of chicken. He offered the fork to Steve, hoping he'd take the bait. 

"I have to-" Steve swatted Bruce's hand away, standing quickly on shaking legs. "I just...need to use the restroom," he offered as he bolted away down the hallway. 

Bruce sighed and calmly finished his dinner, listening to Steve in the bathroom. 

He could hear the man's sobs echoing through the closed door, and he heard when Steve turned on the shower, running hot water. 

Bruce cleaned up the table when he was finished, knowing that Steve most likely wouldn't eat once he was done cleaning his insides out. He'd have to make him some toast before they went to bed. He needed something in his stomach and he was horrible at taking care of himself. 

Once he finished cleaning up, he made his way slowly down the hallway. Steve should be finished with his shower soon. 

"Baby?" Bruce called as he opened the door.

"Wait!" Steve cried from inside the shower. "Please, I'm almost done!" He called and Bruce could hear him scrambling with bottles. 

"I won't come in, honey. I just want to make sure you're okay. How's your headache?" He asked, taking a seat on the toilet lid. 

Steve peeked out at him and Bruce could see that his eyes were shining extra vibrantly due to the redness from all of his tears. 

"Fine," he mumbled, closing the shower curtain again quickly. 

"Are you mad at me?" Bruce asked, leaning back to peek in at the man through the tiny slit between the wall and the shower curtain. 

He could see the tight-lipped expression on Steve's face, but the man didn't respond. 

"You _are_ ," Bruce pressed. He saw Steve reach to turn off the water and quickly turned his gaze away like he hadn't been watching at all. 

Steve whipped the shower curtain open, yanking a towel from its hook on the wall and wrapping it around himself tightly. He stepped out and brusquely walked past Bruce to the sink, ignoring that the man was there. 

He grabbed a brush from the drawer and began combing his hair in the mirror, his face looking grim. 

"Honey, don't be mad," Bruce pleaded, standing and moving slowly toward Steve. Steve made him jump when he slammed the brush on the counter and spun to face the shorter man. 

"How can I not? You..." He trailed off, his face flushing a pretty pink as he averted his eyes. Bruce stood calmly, waiting for the man to say what he needed to say. 

"You... _raped_ me." His eyes came back up to meet Bruce's, hard and hurt, and lined in tears. 

Bruce had been waiting for this accusation. His annoyance had been simmering in his chest for a while, but now he could let it grow into full-boiled anger. 

"How _dare_ you," he whispered, taking a big step toward Steve. It worked as he planned and Steve took a fast step back. "How dare you accuse me of something like that."

"Bruce, I couldn't possibly have consented-!"

"That's enough!" Bruce shouted, his hands clenching at his sides. His deep baritone voice echoed around the tile walls and Steve's eyes grew huge and round at the sound, though he winced as it pinged against his headache like a rock in a steel box.

"I _adore_ you, Steven. I'm your partner and I always take care of you. I want nothing more than to make you happy and you accuse me of _this?!_ After _you **cheated?!**_ Unbelievable!" He scolded incredulously, happily noting the way Steve's resolve melted away like butter under the heat of his gaze. His eyes turned back down to the floor and he shrank against the sink where he stood, his breathing speeding up.

They stood together in silence, listening to each other's speeding breaths. Finally, Steve turned teary eyes back to Bruce, and with a quivering lip he asked, 

"Who is this for?" He pulled apart the towel and stuck his leg out, revealing the deep bruise that bloomed across Steve's inner thigh. It was darkest at the site of the bite around the teeth marks, the skin abraded in a few places just barely not breaking the skin. It was a sickly yellow surrounding the teeth marks and the yellow was ringed in faint purple. Steve knew it was going to keep getting darker just by the way it looked. 

"It's to encourage you to keep your pants on when I'm not around, and for anyone that might try to make their way between your legs. They'll know that you belong to someone else," Bruce informed him firmly, not backing down from Steve's gaze. 

Steve sighed and shook his head just barely. 

"So I... _belong_ to you?" He asked, his voice watery. 

"In a way. You are my partner, aren't you? You agreed to this, Steven. You agreed to be mine. You agreed to let me mark you. Did you think I was kidding?" Bruce asked, not backing away. 

"Well... _no_..." Steve sighed and leaned back against the sink. "I just didn't know it would be so... _big_."

"I want it to remind you of me when we're apart. I want it to be seen, Steven. In case you decide to try to cheat again."

"I won't-!" Steve began, voice pitching high.

"I know," Bruce snarled, ending the blonde's rebuttal immediately. Bruce sighed and shook his head. "It's not supposed to be a punishment, Steve. It's supposed to be for us."

Steve turned and looked at himself in the mirror, giving a sad shake of his own. 

"Look, why don't we sit down and get comfortable, hmm?" Bruce suggested, holding his hand out to the other man. Steve paused, but after a moment, took Bruce's hand and let him lead him to his bedroom to help him dress, then back to the living room.

"Have a seat, baby," Bruce murmured lovingly, taking Steve by the hips and guiding him to sit.

"Have those pain killers kicked in yet?" He asked as he sat down beside the blonde 

"My head feels better, but my stomach…" Steve admitted.

"You must be starving. Honey, you need to start eating better. I want you to start buying more food, your cupboards are empty," Bruce scolded. "If you need me to come grocery shopping with you, I will."

"I'm sorry, Brucie," Steve nearly whined, clutching his stomach tightly. "I just don't have a lot of time, and I don't think about it much," he admitted. 

Bruce was glad the man seemed to have calmed down, allowing Bruce to change the focus of the conversation back onto Steve. 

"Then you need to order out or something. You can't keep going on an empty stomach like this. You don't have a whole lot of meat on your bones to be losing weight," Bruce pointed out. "I don't want to be in a relationship with a bag of bones. And you want Peter to live here? What are you going to feed him, dust?"

Steve blushed and looked away, not denying what Bruce was saying. 

"Why don't we put on a relaxing movie and just cuddle for the evening?" Bruce suggested. "Anything you want. Something comforting."

Bruce quickly stood and walked to the kitchen, leaving Steve to gaze after him. Bruce smiled when Steve reached for the remote and began searching for something the two of them could watch. 

He'd won the argument. Steve would forget about why he was so upset in no time. 

He happily busied himself with making Steve toast, six pieces, just to be sure the man had his stomach full before bed. 

By the time he reached the couch again, Steve had started some animated movie that Bruce had no interest in, and he handed the stack of buttered toast to the blonde on a paper towel.

"Oh, Bruce!" Steve gasped, taking the stack with wide eyes. 

"It's toast, don't get too excited," Bruce chuckled as he sat down. "I would have saved your dinner but I didn't think you'd eat it."

He kept a space between them, allowing the other man to come to him if he wanted. 

He was pleased when Steve scooted over, their thighs touching as he tucked into his toast ravenously. 

Bruce carefully placed his arm across the back of the couch, being careful not to touch Steve. He wanted it to be Steve that closed any distance between them.

Bruce watched in amusement as Steve finished his toast, carefully setting the napkin on the coffee table before he stood and began to meticulously wipe crumbs from his clothes and around his lips.

The blonde muttered to himself about vacuuming and Bruce had to hold back a chuckle. 

What a clean freak. 

His obsession wasn't quite on the level of OCD, Bruce noted, as he watched Steve picking tiny crumbs from his shirt. If it was, he'd be driven compulsively to clean to a point that would cause him mental anguish and disrupt his daily life. 

This was just the blonde being far too particular, as he was in most situations.

"Come sit, babe," Bruce said softly, cutting through the blonde's muttering. He held his hands out again in invitation, and Steve looked back at him with embarrassment on his face. 

"S-sorry, I just...toast crumbs," he murmured in way of answer. 

"I understand, sweetheart. We can worry about them later when you feel better." Bruce coaxed Steve back onto the couch with a warm smile and outstretched arms, and Steve happily sat back down, this time in Bruce's arms. 

Bruce squeezed him firmly as the blonde curled up against Bruce's chest, partially in his lap. 

"That's a good boy," Bruce cooed as he patted Steve's hip gently. 

Steve snuggled in comfortably, turning his attention back to the movie he'd chosen, but Bruce could only think about the bruise inside his thigh. He couldn't stop his hands from roaming Steve's leg, petting softly at the bruise through his sweatpants. 

Steve whimpered and flinched once at Bruce's fingers pressing too firmly, but his nervous blue eyes didn't meet Bruce's for more than a second before he buried his face back into Bruce's chest in embarrassment.

Bruce couldn't help but smile when Steve didn't say anything, but he took pity on the man and moved his hand, pulling it tight around Steve's shoulders instead. 

It wasn't long before Steve's breathing had grown deep and slow, letting Bruce know that he'd fallen asleep, and the brunette sighed happily to himself. 

Steve was so trusting and sweet and so goddamn easy to control. His little mishap with the skinny little slut was something that Bruce could work out of Steve's system, but it would take some work and conditioning. If he did it right, he may be able to get to the raven-haired man too. He'd have to be careful because the man was police, and from what Steve had said, higher up in rank too. But he could find a way to... _deter_ the man without it being considered a real threat. 

Bruce didn't know exactly what it was that Steve liked about Landon or whatever the prick's name was, but he was going to figure it out and pursue it himself. He'd already mentioned wearing contacts to make his dark eyes lighter and losing weight, but maybe he should let his hair grow longer as well.

Bruce grumbled a bit to himself at that idea, hating when his curly hair got too shaggy. Maybe that wasn't such a good idea after all.

Whatever it was, Bruce _could_ and _would_ do it.

He grit his jaw in determination and turned his focus back to the present. 

Steve was sleeping on his shoulder, gentle and soft as a bird. His hair smelled sweet, though his skin had a slight clove smell to it. Bruce wasn't sure where that may have come from, but he couldn't decide if he liked it or not. 

He'd caught a good look at Steve's back once he'd gotten out of the shower. It was healing but the skin looked scabbed and pulled too tight. He needed more of the spearmint scented ointment to finish healing.

Bruce braced himself with Steve in his arms and stood from the couch fluidly, doing his best not to jostle the man too much, then turned to make his way back to Steve's bedroom. 

He gently lowered Steve to the mattress on his side and pushed his shirt up under his arms without waking him, hurrying to the bathroom to retrieve the tube of sticky goo and coming back silently. 

He squeezed a bit onto his fingers and gently but thoroughly rubbed it into his skin. He considered pulling Steve's sweats away from his ass and rubbing some onto the welts there, but it probably wouldn't be wise to do when the man already had some suspicions in his mind about consent. 

He quickly screwed the lid back onto the tube, replacing it in the bathroom, then he came back to Steve's side once more. 

He pulled the blanket over Steve's sleeping body and pressed a soft kiss to Steve's full lips, carding his fingers gently through his golden hair. 

It was late enough to let the man sleep for the night, and he was confident that enough of the alcohol was out of his system that he'd be able to sleep safely alone. 

Bruce then turned and walked back through the house, making sure the television and stove were off. He then grabbed his keys from where he'd placed them on the counter that morning and added Steve's spare to the ring. No use putting it back on the window sill where someone else could find it. 

He took one final look around Steve's house before he left for the evening. There were a few things he wanted to do before he had to go back to work the next afternoon.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> What a lying bastard.

**Author's Note:**

> Made it this far? Be a dear and leave a comment!
> 
> Oh, and hi, I'm back.


End file.
